


Dragon Ball SS

by AlexSummanus



Category: Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Action/Adventure, DBZ, Drama, Fantasy, Multi, Other, Porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-02 22:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 58,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSummanus/pseuds/AlexSummanus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This divergence picks up at the end of Dragon Ball Z.  Year 797 of the Dragon Ball era</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NEW! 9/7/16 - KAMI-SAMA'S DRAGON BALLS ON A CRACKER. D: A year and a half since the last update. DX Notes have been added to the end of the newest chapter, and I'll be using them probably pretty regularly from here on out.
> 
> 3/6/15 - Not bad for me, almost a year before posting again! I guess having a new baby in the house will do that to a person. Hopefully the next few chapters won't take as long; I have most of the revisions done on them and just need to do some tweaking at this point.
> 
> 6/2/14 - Yes, this story is being updated! Five years is a long hiatus - enough time to kill some time in college, have a kid, move around a bit, and get back into the creative groove. The story, as it existed on FF.net and MediaMiner.org was unfinished, and those chapters are currently being revised/rewritten and posted here. Once that is complete, I will be updating with new material once again. Thanks to all of those who've stuck around and kept checking back, and welcome to new readers!
> 
>  
> 
> My stories pretty much always contain content that will offend somebody in some way. I use profanity mildly liberally and there's plenty of the sex-drugs-rock-n-roll-violence-mayhem to go around. If you're easily upset while reading books or stories, don't read mine.

“_Record high temps are expected again today, accompanied by clear skies. A heat advisory has been posted for -”_

 

Bulma clicked off the television set as she walked through the living room. It was hard to say which one of her Saiyans had left it turned on, but with the house empty of all except herself, the forecaster's words were being wasted. She knew full well there would be no break in the heat soon; her work had been entirely shifted to the air-conditioned shop for the time being. It was uncomfortable, at best, to work outdoors.

 

She sighed and looked out the window. She had expected Trunks and Bra to be gone today; their youth and enthusiasm had not waned in the face of the nearly unbearable high temperatures. Vegeta, however, she had expected to find in the training room or camped in front of the television; instead, he had muttered something about being too restless for “that mindless box” and had gone off in search of Son Goku.

 

There was only one reason the stout Saiyan prince would have sought out the only other full-blooded Saiyan on the planet - he was looking to pick a fight. What itch had gotten into Vegeta this time Bulma didn't know, but she hoped that Goku would be able to settle it without too much hassle. It was far too miserable outside for putting up with much of Vegeta's bullheaded attitude.

 

Still, something seemed off about Vegeta lately, she mused. Aside from his restlessness, he'd also seemed unusually aggressive and verbally combative, including in bed. She understood that part of his frustration probably came from her own declining sex drive; she hadn't been interested in some time, especially considering the hot, humid nights. He, however, didn't seem to be feeling the effects of age nearly as much as she did. Bulma wondered if that was part of what was aggravating him - he could pass for a man half his age and his wife was aging, almost daily it seemed, before him. She sighed again and decided not to worry about it for a while; she would try to talk to him about it again after supper.

 

* * *

 

In the tranquil sky above a lush, green field miles from Capsule Corp, Vegeta was focused on a more immediate frustration – the eternal frustration of being one step behind Son Goku yet again. He swung wildly at the happy-go-lucky Saiyan, only to have his punch sidestepped easily.

 

Goku caught Vegeta's wrist with a playful taunt, flipped the smaller Saiyan over in the air and tossed him toward the ground. Vegeta would have none of it, however, and latched onto Goku's wrist as he slid past him. The two tumbled over each other in the air for a moment before Vegeta swung around with a kick to Goku's side. The larger Saiyan moved reflexively to cover the injury and Vegeta hurled him toward the ground.

 

Goku plummeted through the branches of a tall tree and crashed into the ground. The surface cracked underneath him then gave way entirely as Vegeta followed up with a barrage of energy blasts that forced him further into the earth. He put up his arms to block the blasts. “VEGETA! ENOUGH ALREADY!” he yelled.

 

Vegeta snarled in reply and continued the barrage. It was making him angry it seemed to have little to no effect on the other Saiyan, but he knew if he let up even for a moment to focus more energy, Goku would not hesitate to retaliate again. At least here Vegeta had him pinned.

 

Goku, however, quickly grew tired of the attack. He focused his energy for a sudden surge forward and pushed upward through the blasts. They singed his hair and flew around him to crash into the ground, but Goku persisted in moving forward. Vegeta realized the determined push and moved to block the other Saiyan just as Goku collided with him. The two of them arced through the sky and slammed into the ground on the shore of a small lake.

 

They struggled out of the muddy ground and pulled themselves onto a shady area nearby. Startled birds in the trees above them resumed their interrupted chirping as Goku sat down to shake the mud out of his clothes and Vegeta fell back onto the grass in exhaustion.

 

Goku eyed him up skeptically. “Had enough, then?” he asked. “You weren't in top shape today.”

 

Vegeta grumbled under his breath. He tried to sit up but found his efforts not nearly enough to even right himself. He cursed and looked at the sun twinkling between the leaves above him; he'd been hoping for over a week that he wasn't correct about what he'd been sensing, but this confirmed it. Deep down, he had to admit Son Goku was the stronger Saiyan, and now Vegeta was at his mercy.

 

Goku shrugged. “Whatever,” he said. He stood up and stripped his orange gi off, then headed toward the water. He quickly dove in, then surfaced moments later and shook the water from his hair.

 

Vegeta swallowed hard and turned red with shame at the thought of succumbing to his natural weakness  **and ** the power of a lower-class warrior.  _ Cursed body _ , he thought,  _ why does this have to be happening now? _ His situation wasn't made any better when Goku finished rinsing the mud from his body and stepped out of the lake. The late afternoon sun reflected off the rivulets of water running down his body and made every muscle and crevasse on his body shine. He was the picture of Saiyan brawn and potential, while Vegeta remained mud-soaked in the shade, the picture of weakness. 

 

“Sitting there sulking about it isn't going to change anything, Vegeta,” Goku admonished. “Just admit that you lost and tell me what this is all about in the first place; you said you'd tell me when the fight was over.”

 

“It's not that, idiot,” Vegeta muttered. “Yes, you won. That's not the point. You're a pure-blooded Saiyan, and regardless of where you were raised, it should be obvious to you by now what this is about.”

 

Goku frowned and scratched his head. “So you came looking for me just because I'm the only other Saiyan here? I don't get it.”

 

Vegeta exhaled heavily and struggled into a sitting position. His strength had returned only enough to allow limited movement, and he wasted no time in edging away from Goku. “Saiyan biology,” he finally said. “The current weather conditions sparked it; it may be rare on this planet, as their experts claim, but it was on a regular cycle on our home planet. Our bodies need sexual relief regularly until we find a mate and get her pregnant; I don't know about that woman of yours, but Bulma hasn't been interested in some time.”

 

“Oh, well, Chichi hasn't been all _that_ interested in sex,” Goku said indifferently, “but she doesn't do a lot of the things she used to. I suppose they're just getting old. Why would that mean you'd have to come find me?”

 

Vegeta flinched. He did  _ not _ want to think about Bulma and old in reference to each other; it brought up other unpleasant thoughts. Instead, he focused on Goku's question. “Kakarotto, I sought you out to confirm that it is indeed our season; my body's energy recognizes that you're the stronger of us two. That is why I'm virtually worthless now; I wouldn't be able to fight you off if I wanted to.”

 

“Why would I attack you if you're helpless?” Goku asked in confusion.

 

“This is embarrassing enough as it is, you pea-brained waste of skin!” Vegeta raged. “Use what feeble amount of mental capacity you have once in a while. It doesn't matter who the Saiyan is paired with, as long as they get the relief they need. The weaker among us are temporarily crippled by being near the stronger; it's probably a survival instinct, since our race never was all that numerous.”

 

Goku's brow furrowed as he considered Vegeta's words. “If you say so,” he replied. “But I don't know if two men can even have sex...I thought that was something you could only do with a girl.”

 

Vegeta closed his eyes and counted backward to rein in his temper. He reminded himself the other Saiyan was not only an idiot but had been raised in relative comfort on a remote nothing of a planet. He opened his eyes and looked the taller Saiyan over; even if Goku's limited logic wasn't putting the puzzle together, his body knew what was needed. Goku was already well aroused, if somewhat dumbfounded, and sweat was beginning to mingle with the remaining droplets of lake water as he stood in the afternoon sun. Vegeta turned red again and looked away. “Just go home, Kakarotto,” he muttered.

 

Goku blinked. “But how will you get back if you can't even sit up all the way?” he asked. “I can't just leave you here.”

 

“Forget it!” Vegeta snapped. “I'll regain my strength after you've been gone for a while. I should have just relied on my instincts rather than confirming it with a dim-witted third-class warrior like yourself in the first place.”

 

Goku walked forward and reached down to take Vegeta's hand. “Come on, at least let me take you home.”

 

In a flurry of panic, Vegeta slapped the offered hand away and jerked violently backward. “Don't touch me!” he shouted. Moving almost unconsciously, he scrambled to his feet, then toppled suddenly and passed out from exertion.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Vegeta woke to the sound of Goku's voice. He opened his eyes and looked around but could see only darkness around him; he wondered how long he'd been out. From somewhere in the distance, Goku's voice called to him again.

 

“Vegeta! Vegeta, what's wrong?”

 

“Kakarotto?” Vegeta asked. “Where are you?”

 

“Vegeta, I'm right here!” Goku replied. “You're unconscious...but I can hear you.”

 

“Unconscious?” Vegeta turned and looked around again. “That's impossible! What's going on? I can hear you plainly, but I can't see you...I can't see anything.”

 

“Hang on,” Goku said. “I want to try something.”

 

“Kakarotto!” Vegeta said in alarm. “Don't try _anything_! Just stay put!”

 

Goku didn't reply. Vegeta looked around frantically, trying to find some indication of light or direction that might tell him where he was or how to get out.

 

Suddenly, Goku appeared in front of him. Vegeta startled, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What's going on, Kakarotto?” he demanded.

 

“I wondered if it wasn't something like this,” Goku said. “I learned this technique while I was training Uub. We didn't go anywhere except inside ourselves...and somehow, the two of us are connected inside.”

 

“_Inside ourselves?_” Vegeta asked incredulously. “And what do you mean, 'connected'?”

 

Goku scratched the back of his head and looked around. “I'm not sure, actually. I thought this was something that could only be done solo. It's interesting...but I don't know why it works.”

 

Vegeta sighed in irritation. “Useless,” he said. “Since you know so much about getting into this situation, how do you get out?”

 

“You have to concentrate,” Goku said. “Focus your energy in the center of your body, and start reaching out gradually with your senses to feel the world around you. You can't just come out of it all at once.”

 

“Wonderful,” Vegeta replied. He straightened up and closed his eyes, then began to gather his energy inward. “Like this?”

 

“Right,” Goku said. “But take it slow. Don't try to force it to happen quickly.”

 

“I heard you the first time!” Vegeta snapped. “Now get lost!”

 

Goku fell silent, and Vegeta focused once again on gathering his energy. He could feel the warmth of his energy pulsing deep within his core, and his focus centered on containing the blazing light that he sensed more than saw.

 

Slowly, he let the energy creep to the edges of his consciousness and poke at the world around him. He became aware of the grass pricking at the skin on his back and the sound of birds calling above. Leaves rustled as some small animal rushed through the branches of a nearby tree, and the hot air that had been stifling the countryside assailed his face. He stretched his hands slowly and realized that he was fully aware of everything around him, then opened his eyes.

 

Goku was back at the edge of the lake, pulling his wet but relatively clean gi back on. As he tied the sash around his waist, he glanced back at Vegeta. “Oh good, you made it,” he said.

 

“Of course I did!” Vegeta shot back. “A worthless technique like that is nothing to master.” He pushed himself into a sitting position and frowned. He didn't want to spend any more time with the other Saiyan than necessary, but it was obvious that Goku wasn't going to leave him alone. He was going to have to suffer the indignity of having Goku take him back to Capsule Corp.

 

Goku was obviously thinking the same thing. “Come on,” he said. He walked over and held his hand out to Vegeta. “I'll take you back to Capsule Corp. It's obviously going to be the only solution to this.”

 

“All right, already,” Vegeta growled. He reached up and grabbed Goku's hand and pulled himself to his feet. He leaned against Goku's arm for support as he steadied himself.

 

Just then, a sudden rush of air blew down from above, and Gohan landed in front of them.

 

“Gohan!” Goku exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I was passing by this way and sensed the fight you and Vegeta had. Is everything all right?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, yeah, nothing to worry about,” Goku said with a dismissive wave. “Just some sparring to blow off steam.”

 

Gohan noticed Vegeta leaning on Goku's arm and looked him over carefully. “Vegeta, what's wrong?” he asked in concern. “Are you injured?”

 

Vegeta grumbled under his breath, and Goku laughed in response. “Just his pride,” he said. “But he _is_ feeling out of sorts today. Help me get him back to Capsule Corp,” he continued. “I'll explain the whole situation later.”

 

Gohan moved to stand on the other side of Vegeta and lifted the smaller Saiyan's arm around his shoulders. Amidst Vegeta's grumbling, they lifted him off the ground and headed back to Capsule Corp.

 

There was no one in sight when they landed, much to Vegeta's relief. As soon as they'd crossed the threshold into the main house, Vegeta pushed away from them and stumbled to the nearest piece of furniture to support himself.

 

Bulma walked into the room and looked at three of them in surprise. She started to greet Goku and Gohan, then noticed Vegeta's appearance. “Vegeta, are you all right?” she asked.

 

“Fine,” Vegeta replied. “I need a shower.” He brushed her aside abruptly as she tried to take his arm and made his way awkwardly out of the room.

 

Bulma turned to Goku and Gohan for an answer. “I know he doesn't like help when he's injured,” she said, “but he seemed like he was able to walk, and there's no blood on his clothes. What's going on?”

 

“It's kind of complicated,” Goku replied. “At least, when Vegeta was explaining it to me, I didn't understand all of it entirely.”

 

Bulma smiled wryly and motioned for them to follow her. “Come sit down in the kitchen and explain,” she said. “I've got all night; it seems the kids plan on being out late. I'll find something in the fridge for a snack.”

 

“That's great, thanks, Bulma!” Goku exclaimed. “I _am_ starting to get hungry.”

 

“Son-kun, I'd be even more worried than I am if you _hadn't_ said that,” Bulma replied.

 

Goku and Gohan sat down at the kitchen table and Bulma went to the refrigerator. After examining the contents for a moment, she pulled out two large, covered trays and brought them to the table. “Leftover roast and apple salad,” she said. “Help yourself to anything you want to drink in the refrigerator.” She started to say something else, but she was cut off by a shout from Vegeta.

 

“Bulma!” he called. “Where are the towels?”

 

Bulma rolled her eyes. “I'll be right back,” she said. “He may be able to destroy a planet single-handedly, but he's virtually helpless around the house.”

 

Goku and Gohan watched her leave, then Goku turned back to the cold roast before them. He tore off a large chunk and stuffed it in his mouth, then pushed the platter toward Gohan. Gohan waved it away; Goku frowned and swallowed before speaking.

 

“What's wrong?” he asked. “You've been quiet tonight as well; did something happen before you ran into me and Vegeta?”

 

Gohan looked unhappily at the table and folded his hands in front of him. He hesitated for a moment before he spoke, and when he did, his voice shook.

 

“I'm...I'm not ill, I don't think,” he said. “But...something's not right with me.” He paused, and Goku waited patiently for him to continue. “I...I did something today that I thought I would never do...that I never _wanted_ to do.” His shoulders shook, and he brought his folded hands up to press against his forehead. “I still don't know what happened myself.”

 

Goku watched him carefully as he spoke. “Videl's not back from her trip yet, is she?” he asked.

 

Gohan looked up at him, startled.

 

“I could tell, when you helped me lift up Vegeta,” Goku said. “You were close enough that I caught the scent strongly. I didn't say anything, because I knew that Videl was still away from home, and I didn't want to ask any uncomfortable questions until you were ready.”

 

Gohan put his face into his hands. “You're right,” he said. “I was unfaithful to her. And I don't know how I'm going to tell her; I just know that I have to. It's already eating me apart inside.”

 

“You're going to have to tell her regardless,” Vegeta suddenly said. He straightened from where he was leaning on the doorway and walked to the table and sat down facing Goku and Gohan. “The Namekian is hardly a suitable partner for your needs.”

 

Gohan turned red. “You could tell, too?” he asked meekly.

 

“Idiot,” Vegeta said with a smirk. “I was closer to you than your father was on the way back.”

 

Gohan ran his hands through his hair in distress. “It's not just that I cheated on Videl,” he said, “or that it was with Piccolo. If that were only the case, I wouldn't be in nearly as much trouble as I am now.”

 

Vegeta's eyes narrowed and he watched Gohan's expression carefully. “You raped him,” he declared. “He didn't want it and you lost control of yourself.”

 

Gohan choked up and couldn't speak. He nodded quickly and pressed his fists to his eyes. “I don't know what happened,” he finally said with a gasp of breath. “I've never lost control like that; I don't even remember most of it clearly. When I snapped out of it, Piccolo was on the ground in front of me, unconscious. I...panicked, and left.”

 

Vegeta sighed and leaned back in his chair. “It's not particularly surprising,” he said, “but it's going to be an annoyance. Piccolo's not the type to just let an attack like that go unanswered. You certainly have a way of getting yourself into trouble, Boy,” Vegeta said.

 

“Vegeta, does this have anything to do with what you told me earlier?” Goku demanded. “Is Gohan affected by the same thing because he's part Saiyan?”

 

“And what exactly might that 'same thing' be?” Bulma asked. She came into the kitchen carrying a small white box. “Does it have anything to do with why I found you under ice water in the shower?”

 

“Hn,” Vegeta replied.

 

“Don't _even_ start with the attitude, Vegeta,” Bulma countered. She walked up to him and put her hand to his forehead. “Just as I thought, you have a fever.” She pressed a button on the front of the box and a digital thermometer slid out of it. “Hold this under your tongue – and _don't_ bite down on it,” she instructed.

 

“I don't need -” Vegeta began. His rejection was cut off when Bulma stuck the tip of the thermometer into his mouth. Vegeta rolled his eyes and sat back to wait for the temperature reading.

 

When the thermometer finally beeped, Bulma leaned over and looked at the display. She frowned, then took the thermometer and examined it more closely. “You're definitely running a temperature,” she said. “Your average is slightly warmer than a human's anyway, but this is high even for a Saiyan.”

 

“It's normal,” Vegeta said sullenly. “I'll be that temperature for a while. I expect these two are the same way; the high temperature can affect our thinking, which is why I'm not surprised that Gohan lost sense of what he was doing for a while.”

 

Bulma pinched her chin thoughtfully. “And the cold water of the shower leveled you out long enough to regain your balance and make you able to function almost normally,” she realized.

 

“For a while,” Vegeta conceded. “It's not a permanent fix to the problem.”

 

“You still haven't said what the 'problem' actually _is_, Vegeta,” Bulma pointed out.

 

Vegeta grumbled and grabbed part of the roast from the table. He looked disgruntled as he ate, then finally decided to answer Bulma.

 

“Saiyan biology can be influenced by the weather when it comes to reproduction,” he finally said. “Planet Vegeta had regular cycles in the weather that made it ideal for our race to thrive, or so I'm told; I was too young when the planet was destroyed to have knowledge of it firsthand.” He paused to take some more meat from the table. “The effects will pass when the weather changes, or when we have a pregnant companion, whichever comes first.”

 

“But why would that involve someone like Piccolo?” Gohan asked. “He's neither a woman nor a Saiyan.”

 

“It's because of what you said earlier, right, Vegeta?” Goku asked. “You said that having sex with anyone can help.”

 

“It relieves sexual tension,” Vegeta clarified. “And it has a similar effect on the mind as cooling it down does. I don't know why it works, and neither Raditz nor Nappa were smart enough to even question it.”

 

Gohan sighed and sat back. “Even if Videl _were_ home right now, I don't know what I could do about it,” he said. “She hasn't really wanted another child; that's why we only have Pan.”

 

“You managed to get yourself in a bad situation already,” Vegeta pointed out. “And you're not going to be able to avoid talking to her about it. For now, however, I recommend you find somewhere to isolate yourself until you learn to keep control over your mind.”

 

Goku stood. “We should get back home,” he said. “If Gohan is affected, then there's a good chance that Goten is as well. Gohan, you can stay with us until Videl and Pan get home from their vacation; that way, you're not going through this alone.”

 

Gohan sighed, but nodded. “All right,” he said. He stood and joined his father. “I'm sure I'll have more questions once I've slept on it and cooled my head. Are you going to be here tomorrow, Vegeta?” Gohan asked.

 

“Hn,” Vegeta replied. “Even if it _weren't_ our season, this planet is mind-numbingly boring as of late. I'll be here.”


	3. Chapter 3

Afternoon was fading into evening as Goku and Gohan landed at the front door of the Son household. Goku reached for the door, but Gohan reached out and stopped him.

 

“Dad,” he began, “I know you're going to need to talk to Mom about this...but I'd rather tell her about my situation myself.” He hesitated. “I haven't figured out exactly what I'm going to say yet, but...I want to be the one who breaks it to her.”

 

Goku nodded. “I understand,” he said. “Just let me know when you're ready, and I'll make sure you have a chance to talk to her.”

 

The two of them went inside. Goten was seated at the table, and Chichi was standing at the stove cooking.

 

“Oh, hi, Dad! Hi, Gohan!” Goten said. “You got here just in time for dinner!”

 

“Gohan! It's good to see you!” Chichi said. “You and Goku go on and wash up, I'll put out another plate for you.” She smiled at him and turned back to her cooking.

 

Gohan nodded and slipped out of the room. Goten tilted his head and watched him leave, then turned back to Goku. “Dad? Is everything all right?” he asked.

 

“Gohan's just had a long day,” he said. “I'm sure he'll feel more talkative after he's had dinner.”

 

Chichi turned away from the food preparation once again and brought another clean plate and utensils over to the table. She added them to the table setting and looked up at Goku. “Goku-sa,” she began.

 

Suddenly, the front door slammed open; Goten, Goku and Chichi spun toward the sound to find Piccolo framed in the doorway. His clothes were decidedly battered and he bared his fangs as he glared around the room.

 

“Where is he?” Piccolo roared. “Hand that miserable brat over!”

 

Chichi shrank back behind Goku. “Wha...what are you saying?” she demanded. “Piccolo?”

 

Goku put his hand out to shield Chichi and stepped forward. “I'll handle this, Chichi,” he said. He motioned to Goten, who was half-standing from his chair, to also back down. “Piccolo, we're taking this outside,” he said.

 

“Don't try to play your good-guy bullshit with me!” Piccolo snapped. “And if you know what's good for you, you won't get in my way. Where is Gohan?”

 

“I'm right here, Piccolo,” Gohan said. He stepped into the room and walked halfway to where Piccolo was standing. “And I don't want my family involved in this,” he finished. He walked up to face the Namekian. “We'll take this outside, like Dad suggested.”

 

“Die outside, then!” Piccolo replied. He grabbed Gohan by the front of the shirt and dragged him out into the twilight.

 

“Gohan!” Chichi shrieked. She started forward, but Goku held her back.

 

“Chichi, stay here,” he said quickly. “Goten, stay here with your mother and make sure she stays safe.”

 

“Dad?” Goten asked. “What's going on? Why is Piccolo-”

 

Goku was already headed toward the door and waved Goten's question aside. “I'll explain later,” he said. “Stay here and out of the way.”

 

Outside, the situation Goku feared happening had come to pass. Piccolo was enraged and pummeling Gohan mercilessly; Gohan had instinctively put up his arms to block the assault, but he was not making any effort to counter the blows or to toss Piccolo away from him.

 

“Piccolo, stop!” Goku called. He quickly approached the two and put his hand on Piccolo's shoulder. “Can't you see that he doesn't want to fight you?”

 

Piccolo responded with a sudden punch to Goku's face. “And _I_told you to stay out of this!” he snarled. “Whether he fights back or not is irrelevant to me.”

 

Goku's anger flared and his energy surged upward into a burst of golden aura and suddenly blond hair. He reached between the two struggling before him and pushed Gohan a safe distance away; then he turned to Piccolo and narrowed his eyes. “If you want to kill my son, you have to go through me to do it,” he said. The words were nearly without emotion, but the expression on his face was deadly.

 

Piccolo scowled and bared his teeth at Goku. “You've _no _knowledge of what your son has done, have you?” he asked. “Or else you've _also_ lost your mind. Perhaps you Saiyans are finally showing your true colors after all.”

 

“Piccolo, how can you say that?” Gohan cried. “Please, just hear us out. If I had intended to hurt you, why would I have panicked and fled like I did? I already feel horrible about it - and I'll understand if you still hate me even after you know why it happened. But please - allow me the chance to explain.”

 

“You had an opportunity to explain when you pinned me to the ground, and instead you chose to knock me unconscious!” Piccolo shot back.

 

Gohan bit his lip and sat down on the lawn. “I...I know...” he said. “And I know that it was sudden, and I don't remember everything I did, but I know that I didn't give you any warning. Please try to understand, Piccolo - I lost control of myself. When I regained my senses, it was over. Vegeta explained _why_ it happened, but I still don't understand fully myself _how_...”

 

Piccolo cut him off. “I was right, then,” he said. “It _is_ because you're part Saiyan. I should have known better than to think Saiyans could truly change their nature.”

 

“No, it's not like that at all!” Gohan said. “It started because I'm part Saiyan,” he admitted. “But I lost my head. I don't know why no one else has, but believe me, I am truly trying to find out. And...” He paused and choked up for a moment before he was able to continue. “I know I should have stayed and made sure you were all right; I was just so scared and confused...and I knew that you were going to wake up angry and that I wouldn't have the answers you wanted.”

 

Goku started to cut in, but Gohan raised his hand up to stop him.

 

“Also...I didn't want to risk hurting you again.” Gohan bunched his knees up against his chest and rested his forehead on them. “I never would have thought I was capable of something like that. It's something I never, ever would have wanted to do to anyone...but especially not to someone I care about.”

 

Piccolo moved suddenly and hoisted Gohan off the ground by his shirt. “Then _why did you_?” he demanded. He shook Gohan roughly. “You're a scholar, so don't even _try_ to tell me you haven't thought about it!”

 

Goku grabbed Piccolo's arm, but Gohan shook his head and waved him away. Tears were welling in his eyes and he tried to look away, but Piccolo tightened his grip and forced Gohan to look at him.

 

“I have,” Gohan said. “I _have_ been thinking about it, ever since Dad and I talked to Vegeta.” He paused and tried to look away again; as he did so, he noticed Chichi clinging to the frame of the open door, with Goten hovering protectively near her. Both were watching the confrontation with a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

 

“_And?_”

 

Gohan's tears spilled over and ran down his face, but he made no effort to wipe them away or struggle out of Piccolo's grip. “Because I love you, Piccolo-san.”

 

Goku saw both Gohan and Chichi fall at the same time, but being nearly as stunned, didn't move in time to catch either of them before they hit the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

Goku gently brushed Gohan's hair out of his face and set a cool washcloth across Gohan's forehead. Gohan sighed in relief and gazed at his dad through tired, half-closed eyes.

 

“Dad, I shouldn't just lie here-” he began.

 

Goku interrupted him. “You need to rest,” he said. “Your mother should come around soon, and you know she's going to be demanding explanations from you as soon as she does; it'll just be easier on everyone if you're well-rested when you have to talk to her.” He turned to leave, but looked over his shoulder one last time at Gohan before he turned the lights off. “In the meantime, I'll let everyone know what Vegeta told us. Perhaps that will calm both her _and_ Piccolo down.”

 

Gohan nodded as his father left. He listened to the muffled sound of voices from the kitchen for a few minutes, then closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind.

 

Goku walked back into the kitchen to find Goten fanning his half-fainted mother with a magazine and Piccolo leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and arms crossed, a deep scowl etched into his face. Chichi's eyes fluttered open at the sound of Goku's footsteps and she shakily righted herself in her chair.

 

“Goku-sa?” she asked. “Is Gohan-”

 

“He's resting,” Goku said. “This has been a hard day for him; he needs to clear his mind and recover before he does anything else.”

 

“Gohan said that Vegeta is involved in this,” Piccolo said without opening his eyes. “I expect an explanation, Son.”

 

“Gohan ran into me and Vegeta this afternoon,” Goku replied. “Vegeta came to find me because he sensed something wrong in himself and wanted to see if I was also affected.” He briefly outlined the fight that he and Vegeta had and the discussion that had resulted. “Vegeta said this is probably something that's going to affect all of us who are Saiyan or part Saiyan.”

 

“But...I'm not affected,” Goten said. “At least, I think I'm not. Sure, I was running a bit of a fever today - Mom almost didn't let me go hang out with Trunks because of it. But I was out all day with him, and we ran into Bra and some of her friends, and none of us had any problems like that.”

 

Goku frowned and crossed his arms. “That's why this isn't making that much sense,” he said. “Even I wasn't affected as much as Gohan and Vegeta were.”

 

“Where did you and your friends go today?” Piccolo asked suddenly.

 

Goten looked up at him, startled. “Nowhere special,” he said. “Trunks and I went to the mall, but we got kicked out for goofing off in the fountain, so we went to the water park. That's where we ran into Bra and her friends.”

 

“The water park...” Goku began suddenly.

 

“I wondered the same thing,” Piccolo said. “If you relayed everything accurately, all of you except Gohan and Vegeta spent some time in water today – and then Vegeta recovered after a cold shower. It seems even a brief cool down helps immensely.”

 

“Though Vegeta said that it's only a temporary solution,” Goku countered. “Gohan wanted to talk to him more about it tomorrow; I think it would be a good idea to find a more permanent solution.”

 

“And one that _doesn't_ involve having children!” Chichi exclaimed. “I don't know about Bulma, but I know that, even if I were inclined to, I am not in the condition to have children at my age!”

 

“Then I'll see you at Capsule Corp tomorrow,” Piccolo said. “Since Gohan chose to involve me in this, I want to know what the solution is going to be.” He turned toward the door. “Tell Gohan not to bother seeking me out until he has a better grip on himself.”

 

Goku, Goten and Chichi watched him leave, then Chichi sighed and stood up. She looked over the abandoned meal on the stove and the empty plates on the table. “Dinner's gotten cold,” she said almost automatically. “I'll start over on it.”

 

Goku and Goten could tell she was drained emotionally. The two of them stood up simultaneously to help her.

 

“I'll get dinner, Mom, don't worry about it,” Goten said. He moved quickly to the stove and began working anew on the meal.

 

“Chichi, I'm sorry,” Goku said. “We shouldn't have barged in at dinner time knowing there were problems.”

 

“It's all right, Goku,” Chichi said. “I should be used to it by now. I'm just glad that Gohan's going to be all right...Piccolo still scares me sometimes, even after all these years of being on our side. I just...I keep thinking back to when he took Gohan away when Gohan was little, and how my little scholar came back all ragged and war-like...” Her voice trailed off as tears welled up in her eyes.

 

Goku reached out and awkwardly hugged Chichi. He hated it when she cried, and he never knew quite what to do or say to make her happier. “It'll be all right, Chichi,” he finally said. “We'll have dinner and sleep on it. I'm sure everything will work out.”

 

* * *

 

Goten stretched his arms behind his head and yawned, then quickly finished off his breakfast. He looked around the kitchen and noticed that Gohan was still missing. “Dad, isn't Gohan going to have breakfast?” he asked.

 

Goku nodded. “He is. He wanted to cool off in the stream first; he's still not feeling well this morning, and I don't think he slept well last night. He'll be back in a bit.”

 

Goten groaned. “Man...I was going to hang out with Trunks again today, too,” he griped. “Can I just go over there early and talk to Trunks for a while before you guys get there? Please?”

 

Goku smiled. “Ask your mother, Goten,” he said. “I don't mind.”

 

“Mo-om,” Goten began.

 

“As long as you two don't wander away from Capsule Corp until we talk to Vegeta,” she said. “I don't want to risk you getting into trouble like your brother did.”

 

Goten folded his hands together before him in thanks. “Sure, sure, not a problem!” he said. He dashed out the door and took off into the sky.

 

Chichi folded her arms across her chest and watched him leave. “I hope he doesn't start trouble,” she said out loud.

 

“He's going to be fine, Chichi,” Goku said. “He's young and wants to have fun, not be held down by a complicated problem.”

 

“There is a time for fun, and there's a time for being responsible!” Chichi replied. “He needs to-” She stopped short as she noticed Gohan walk into the room.

 

“Sorry,” Gohan said. “Am I interrupting?”

 

“Of course not, Gohan,” Chichi said. “Come and eat some breakfast. You didn't eat dinner last night; you must be starving.”

 

“I _am_ a bit hungry,” Gohan replied. “I'm still feeling a bit out of sorts this morning, but the cold water helped, like Dad said it would.”

 

He sighed, and looked down at the plate Chichi set in front of him before speaking again. “Videl and Pan are supposed to be home later today, and I still don't know what I'm going to tell them. I'm just hoping that with Vegeta's help, I'll be able to explain it well enough that Videl understands.”

 

“Surely there must be some way to fix it with medicine or some kind of treatment,” Chichi said. “I'm no doctor, but I know they have medicines for everything these days.”

 

Gohan quickly cleared his plate and handed it to his mother for seconds. He chewed thoughtfully, then replied as she handed him another plate of food. “I've been thinking about it, some last night and some this morning. I'm sure there must be some way to determine what's being altered in the brain chemistry; it almost has to involve hormones somehow. I'll have to see if Bulma has the equipment at Capsule Corp to run some tests. I have never heard of this sort of thing on Earth, so I don't know if our doctors would be able to analyze what's going on or not.” He continued to muse out loud for several minutes before realizing that Goku and Chichi were simply looking at him with bemused interest.

 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I got carried away thinking out loud.”

 

“Don't worry about it,” Goku said. “It's good to see you acting more like yourself.” He handed his own plate back to Chichi. “I'll have more also, please!”

 

* * *

 

“Bra, I said **no**, and I mean it!” Vegeta said. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “You're staying home until this afternoon, and at that point you are **not** going out dressed like that!”

 

“Daddy, I can't **believe** you!” Bra whined. “You've **never** objected to how I dress before! Why is it such a problem now?”

 

“Just listen to your father, Bra,” Bulma said patiently. “He knows what's best for you whether you believe it or not. Now, if you're finished with your breakfast, go to your room and change.”

 

“Rrrr!” Bra growled. “This is **not fair**.” She stood up quickly and slammed her chair against the table, then stormed back to her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

 

“So when are you going to explain what's going on, anyway?” Trunks asked. “Goten and I had plans for today.”

 

“I told you before, I'll explain when Kakarotto and that brat of his get here. If Goten was coming over anyway, he'll probably tag along with them.” Vegeta stopped suddenly and narrowed his eyes at Trunks. “What _sort_ of plans?” he asked.

 

Trunks threw his hands up in the air. “We're just going to hang out at the park,” he said. “What's it matter to you? The way you're acting, it's like you think he and I are dating or something.”

 

Bulma choked on her coffee and quickly set the cup down. “'Or something' being the operative words here,” she said.

 

A sudden blast of music from Bra's room cut off Trunks's reply. Quick, bouncing notes paired with a muffled but annoyingly cute voice echoed down the hall.

 

Vegeta winced and glanced toward the source of the music. “Bra, turn that noise down!” he shouted.

 

The volume remained steady. “She probably can't hear you over the volume of the music, Vegeta,” Bulma said.

 

“Oh, she can hear me,” he replied. He got up and strode down the hall to Bra's room. He kicked the base of the door solidly and it popped open. The noise instantly doubled and the lyrics assailed his ears. _Roses are red and violets are blue; honey is sweet but not as sweet as you. It's invisible, but - so touchable-_

 

“**Bra, I told you**-” Vegeta's shout cut off short as he stepped into the room to find his teenage daughter, not only not paying attention, but nude and jumping on her bed in time to the music. Vegeta turned red and hastily backed into the hall; he slammed the door shut behind him. “**TURN IT DOWN!**” Vegeta shouted through the door. “**AND QUIT JUMPING ON YOUR BED!**”

 

“I don't wanna!” Bra sang back in time with her music. “You can't make me!”

 

Vegeta raised his fist as though to hit the door but restrained himself. He turned away from the door and found himself face to face with Bulma.

 

“Is she seriously jumping on her bed?” Bulma asked.

 

“She's jumping on her bed _nude_,” Vegeta clarified. “Of all the mindless, infantile things she could-”

 

Bulma set her hand on Vegeta's shoulder. “I'll make her turn it down,” she said. “Go on and finish your breakfast.” She nodded toward the kitchen, then turned back to Bra's room and opened the door.

 

_Come with me baby, please fulfill my wish; show it to me truly, show me with a kiss-_ Bulma sighed and reached for the volume control.

 

“Mom!” Bra wailed as the volume dropped. “I was listening to that!” She paused in her bouncing and turned to face Bulma with a pout.

 

“You're intentionally irritating your father, and you know it,” Bulma said sternly. “Keep it down in here if you're going to sulk. And if you break that bed, the new one is coming out of your allowance - you may not be as strong as your brother, but you're certainly strong enough to break furniture.”

 

“Fine,” Bra replied. She stepped down off of her bed and sat down on the floor with her legs crossed.

 

Bulma rolled her eyes. “And get dressed at some point. You're going to have to come out and be civil to our guests when they get here.”

 

Bulma had not more than closed the door when the volume of the music raised again, but it was not nearly as deafening as it had been. She shook her head as she started back down the hall.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Goten hummed to himself as he landed in the yard at Capsule Corp. He started toward the front door but stopped short; he realized he could hear humming other than his own. Curious, he followed the sound around the side of the house and found Bra with her head resting on her arms, leaning on her windowsill.

 

The aqua-haired teen stopped humming and looked at Goten in surprise; then she smiled broadly and straightened up. “Goten!” she said. “Are you here by yourself?”

 

Goten blushed. Bra was shamelessly topless, bare all the way to where her midriff met the windowsill. “Er...yeah,” Goten said. “I came ahead of the others so that I could visit Trunks for a bit.”

 

“Oh, Trunks will be here all day,” Bra said. “Daddy's forbidden either of us to leave the house. Come in and visit with _me_ for a while.” She beckoned him over to her window.

 

Goten hesitated. His mother's warning was ringing in his ears, and if Vegeta were to catch him even in the vicinity of Bra while she was topless, 'trouble' would not be a sufficient enough word to describe the situation. He suddenly realized his palms were sweaty and he wiped them on his jeans as he walked toward the window.

 

Bra reached out and took his hands to help him step through the window and into the room. “I'm glad you came by,” she said. “I was starting to get bored.” She smiled alluringly at him.

 

Goten gulped. He hadn't expected to find that Bra was not just topless but completely nude. He wanted to back toward the window again but his feet wouldn't move; instead, he found his eyes roaming over her curves and his fingers wanting desperately to touch them.

 

Bra moved up against him and put her arms around his neck. “So,” she asked, “what do you think we could do to make things more exciting?”

 

“E-exciting?” Goten asked. “A-are you sure this isn't exciting enough?” _He_ was certainly excited, he realized, but things were going to get bad really quickly if he did anything about it.

 

Bra didn't fail to notice, however, and she slipped her hands inside his t-shirt. She pulled upward on the hem and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Take it off.”

 

Goten nodded and quickly removed his t-shirt. He tossed it onto the floor and put his arms around Bra's waist. “If your dad finds us, it's going to mean trouble - _big_ trouble,” he said.

 

“Sounds like fun,” Bra said playfully. She tugged at the waist of his pants. “So tell me, how big _is_ big?”

 

Goten groaned, then bit his lip to stifle the sound. He glanced nervously toward the door.

 

Bra noticed his worry and pulled him toward the side of the room. “Here,” she said. She opened a heavily-decorated door and revealed a private bathroom. “I'll turn the shower on - then no one can hear us and my parents will think I'm showering.”

 

“Ah, that's right - a shower!” Goten exclaimed. He suddenly realized the volume of his voice and clamped his hand over his mouth. “Yes - I think the shower sounds like a great plan,” he said more quietly. “Preferably _in_ the shower.”

 

“Ooh, I like it!” Bra replied with a wink. She pulled Goten into the bathroom with her and closed the door behind them.

 

Goten rubbed the back of his head nervously. He watched Bra start the water in the shower running while he argued mentally with himself over the wisdom of what they were doing.

 

Bra glanced over her shoulder at him. “Are you joining me?” she asked coyly. She stepped half inside the shower and winked at him.

 

Goten gave up the struggle and quickly stripped off the rest of his clothes. “Yeah, I am,” he replied. He stepped into the shower next to her.

 

Bra quickly pulled him around and planted a long kiss on his lips. She slid her leg suggestively against his and leaned in close.

 

“A-are you sure you want hot water?” Goten asked. “It's ridiculously hot outside today...”

 

“Of course!” Bra replied. She ran her fingers playfully down his abdomen, stopping just shy of his pubic hair. “Wouldn't want you to cool down early, now.”

 

Goten rubbed the back of his head again, then sighed. He wrapped his arms around Bra and started to lift her up, only to have his fingers slip on the wet skin of her lower back. He caught her awkwardly, and she carefully put her feet back on the floor of the shower.

 

“Looks like we'll both have to stay on the ground for this one,” she commented. “Let's try a different position; I saw this in a movie once.” She turned around to face away from Goten, then reached back to take her hands in his. She guided his hands to her hips. “Here,” she said, “I can lean against the wall this way.”

 

His misgivings became even more fleeting as his hands clasped her hips. She fit snugly against him as he lifted her up onto her toes and pressed against her. Goten closed his eyes and tilted his head back to take in the feeling of the tight fit. He wondered briefly if they should have found some sort of lubricant first, but all thoughts vanished when Bra pushed firmly against him and rocked her hips against his. After a moment, the two of them found a comfortable rhythm together.

 

Goten groaned with frustration as his hands slipped from their hold on Bra's body and he was forced to quickly readjust them. The hot water raining down from the shower head pounded on his back and ran over his shoulders to spill down on Bra's back and hips.

 

Bra put her forearm out to brace against the wall of the shower, and she leaned forward more to give Goten an easier angle. Her leg muscles strained as she struggled to find that comfortable fit they'd had just a moment earlier. Then, Goten was able to find solid grip on her hips once again, and he lifted her enough that they were able to settle into the warm, flowing rhythm they'd had.

 

Suddenly, Goten tensed up. He groaned through his teeth and leaned in closer to Bra. “Dammit,” he cursed quietly.

 

“What is it?” Bra asked. She tilted her head to try to see his face.

 

“I...dammit,” Goten said. “I'm...already...” He panted and pulled her suddenly tight against him. Goten gasped quickly as he came, then slumped over Bra. He braced himself above her so as not to smother her with his weight.

 

“Goten,” Bra began. She let herself relax and sink slowly to the floor of the shower. “That...that was...”

 

“I'm sorry,” Goten mumbled. “I _wanted _it to last longer...”

 

Bra turned around to face him and reached up to stroke his face. She blinked the shower water out of her eyes, then sat forward to meet his gaze. “That's not what I was saying,” she said. “Whether it was too short or not...I wouldn't know. But it was wonderful, at any rate.”

 

Goten blinked in surprise. “R-really?” he asked.

 

Bra nodded, then move up onto her knees and kissed him gently on the lips. “I wouldn't have said it was, otherwise.”

 

Goten smiled. “Thanks,” he replied. Then, his eyes suddenly widened again. “But...you wouldn't know? Does that mean-”

 

Bra sat back and grinned. “Do you really think Daddy'd let any average boy date me? Or any boy, really, for that matter?”

 

Goten lowered his head. “Right,” he said. He swallowed hard. “That's-”

 

Bra suddenly reached up and shushed him. She leaned toward the door of the shower and listened carefully. “Shit!” she swore. “There's someone in my room.”

 

“What?” Goten also leaned over and listened. Then, he jumped to his feet in alarm.

 

Bra also stood up. She grabbed Goten's wrist as he reached for the shower door. “Stay here,” she whispered. “If we get lucky, they'll hear the shower running and leave.”

 

* * *

 

Bulma smiled as she opened the door to greet Goku, Chichi and Gohan. “Come on in,” she said. “I'll bring some drinks out for everybody.” She led them into the sitting room, where Vegeta and Trunks were already waiting.

 

Chichi started as she realized Goten was not in the room. “Goten's not here yet?” she asked.

 

“What do you mean?” Bulma looked puzzled. “We thought Goten was coming over with you.”

 

Chichi folded her arms and seethed with frustration. “Oh, I knew it! He **has** wandered off to get into trouble! I told him to come directly here!”

 

Goku sat his hand on Chichi's shoulder. “We don't know that he's in trouble, Chichi,” he said. He turned back to Bulma. “Goten said he wanted to come over early to hang out with Trunks,” he said. “He said the two of them had plans for today.”

 

“Dad canceled our plans for us,” Trunks sulked. “We _did_ have plans for today, but I haven't seen Goten yet.”

 

“Well, we'll sort that out first,” Bulma said. “I'll go tell Bra that you're here so that she can join us.”

 

Music was still pouring from Bra's room when Bulma reached her door, but Bulma couldn't hear any other sounds from inside. She knocked briefly and leaned into the room. “Bra, our guests are here.”

 

There was no answer, and Bulma stepped into the room. The stereo still blared out glitzy pop music, but her daughter was nowhere to be seen. However, a discarded t-shirt caught her eye; it wasn't like Bra to just toss her clothes anywhere, and the sleeves of the t-shirt seemed big for Bra's frame.

 

Bulma frowned as she picked up the rumpled t-shirt from Bra's floor. It was certainly a man's t-shirt, and far too big for Bra to wear. Her daughter preferred form-fitting clothing and revealing as much skin as possible - not covering it up or hiding her shape.

 

The sound of a shower was coming from Bra's private bathroom, and Bulma glanced suspiciously at the door. She moved quickly across the room and stepped into the bathroom. “Bra, our guests are here; you need to come out and join us.”

 

Goten tucked himself as close to the corner of the shower as he could, facing away from the room, and hoped desperately that Bulma wouldn't notice him.

 

His efforts were in vain, however. Bulma glanced at the discarded clothes on the bathroom floor and then turned to look Bra in the face. She put her hands on her hips as she looked through the clear, wet panel on the shower door. “You two both better clean up and get out in the main room,” she said. “That includes you, Son Goten.” She smirked as Goten noticeably froze up. “I hate to tell you, but even if your parents _weren't_ out there wondering where you're at, your father dislikes clothing enough that I know what Son rear end looks like. You really _are_ the spitting image of your dad.”

 

Goten turned red and let his forehead fall against the wall of the shower. “I could have happily gone the rest of my life without knowing that,” he muttered.

 

“Oh, and there's one other thing,” Bulma said. She reached into the shower and flipped the faucet handle over to cold. “You two need to cool down.”

 

Bra shrieked and Goten shouted in shock as they were suddenly doused with icy water. The two of them scrambled together to reach the handle; while they were distracted, Bulma swept up Goten's clothes from the floor and carried them with her out of the bathroom.


	6. Chapter 6

Bulma quickly strode down the hall carrying the bundle of clothing. She peeked her head into the sitting room on her way by. “Bra's in the shower; she'll be out soon,” she said. “I'm going to throw a load of laundry in the washing machine.” Before Vegeta could object, she continued on down the hall to the laundry room.

 

She tossed Goten's clothes into the washing machine and started it running, then turned to look around the laundry room. She knew there was a recently-dried load still waiting to be put away, and after a moment, she found the basket containing it. She sorted through the clothes for a moment and found what she was hoping to find – a set of Trunks's clothes with the Capsule Corp name and logo emblazoned on them. She quickly carried them back to Bra's room and set them on the bed, then turned off the stereo and returned to the sitting room.

 

“Isn't that girl ready, yet?” Vegeta demanded in annoyance. “It's one thing for her to be stubborn; it's another thing for her to be outright belligerent like she has been.”

 

“Can't say who she would have inherited _that_ from,” Bulma said pointedly. She sat down to join the others. “I'm sure she'll be out in a minute; I turned her shower over to cold to encourage her to finish quickly.”

 

Vegeta smirked slightly. “I _thought _I heard her shriek back there; it was next to impossible to tell over that noise she had coming out of her room.”

 

“I expect that's not the last we'll hear out of her,” Bulma said. “The shower was off just now; I would say that she'll probably have an additional complaint, right about...” She looked at the watch on her wrist and was about to continue, when Bra's shout of dismay cut her off.

 

“MOTHER, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?”

 

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. “Do I _want_ to know what the problem is?” he asked.

 

“No,” Bulma replied truthfully. “But now you can't accuse me of always aiding and abetting her antics.”

 

Goku let his attention wander back toward Bra's bedroom, curious as to what it was that Bulma was being evasive about. He suddenly realized the presence of Goten's ki signature with Bra's and his brow furrowed. The others noticed the look and turned their attention there as well, just as Bra and Goten walked into the room.

 

Bra had a furious scowl on her face, and Goten was red to the tips of his hair. He shifted his weight awkwardly, well aware of the word “Capsule” emblazoned across his chest and the nested double-C on his leg.

 

The room was silent for a moment as everyone stared at the pair. Bra continued to scowl at her mother, and Goten waited uneasily for someone to make the first move; he certainly didn't want to dig himself in any deeper than he already was.

 

Trunks was the first to break the silence. “Aren't those _my_ clothes?”

 

“_Mother_ apparently thought it would be funny to swap his clothes for yours,” Bra retorted.

 

“You know my rule about dirty clothes on the floor, Bra,” Bulma said. She pointed back down the hall. “Goten can have his back as soon as the wash is done.”

 

Trunks stared incredulously at Bulma. “Are you saying Goten's clothes were on her floor?” he asked. He quickly turned his attention back to the youngest Son. “Goten, what gives?” he demanded. “Have you been seeing my little sister without telling me?”

 

Chichi's irate voice broke in just then. “I thought I told you about getting into trouble, Goten!” she shouted. “You're just as impulsive and unthinking as your father, and look where it's gotten you now!”

 

Goten cringed and raised his hands defensively. “It's...not like that,” he said. “Really...there _is_ an explanation for this...”

 

Vegeta had been silent up until that point, though the vein in his forehead had become increasingly prominent. “Then explain,” he said. “I'll be sure to have it engraved on your grave marker.”

 

“Vegeta-san...” Goten began weakly. “It's...well, I _did _come over to see Trunks originally,” he said quickly. “But when I arrived, there was Bra at her window...and she was _really_ cute just sitting there without a shirt on...and...shit, this isn't helping.” He winced and brought his hands up nervously to his face.

 

Vegeta closed his eyes, and he clenched and unclenched his hands several times.

 

Bra stepped forward then and put her hands on her hips. “Daddy, don't be an ass about this,” she complained. “You've scared off every boy who's so much as looked at me, and I'm getting tired of it!”

 

Vegeta raised his hand and fired a blast of ki at Bra in response. Everyone in the room gasped in shock. Before the blast reached Bra, however, Goten suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and spun around with her; he wrapped his arms around Bra and took the blast square in his back.

 

Terse silence filled the room for a moment. Goten's chest heaved as he struggled with the pain from the blast, then he caught his breath and looked down at Bra, who was trembling inside his grip. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

 

“Y-yes...just shaken, I think,” she replied. Her eyes watered as she peered around Goten's shoulder at her father.

 

“Come on,” Goten said. He looked over his shoulder and glared at Vegeta. “I think when your own parent tries to kill you, it's time to find somewhere safer to stay.” He straightened up and nudged her forward ahead of him, still keeping himself between her and Vegeta.

 

“Idiot,” Vegeta spat. “I hit what I aim at; don't think that my aim _or_ my strength is so weak.”

 

“Dad, if Goten hadn't gotten between your blast and Bra-” Trunks began.

 

“Then I would have caught the blast myself and killed Goten in the same motion,” Vegeta finished. “Anyone who can't at least protect my daughter from something as weak as that has no business even _seeking_ to sire a child with her.”

 

Goten and Bra stopped short and stared at him. “Vegeta-san, does...does that mean that you're okay with this?” Goten asked.

 

Vegeta walked up to him and slapped him on the back of the head. “You're still a moron, just like your father, and you're still spawn of a third-class warrior,” he said. “But there is, unfortunately, none better on this planet for her.”

 

“Y-yes, Vegeta-san,” Goten replied meekly. He quickly sat down on the sofa next to Trunks, only to have Bra leap onto his lap and wrap her arms possessively around his neck. She stuck her tongue out at Vegeta, then turned away from him.

 

Bulma breathed a sigh of relief and sank back into the cushions of the armchair. “God, Vegeta, the things you do sometimes,” she began. “I'm getting too old for scares like that.”

 

Vegeta frowned at that statement. “Hn,” he replied.

 

“Goten, this still doesn't excuse your behavior!” Chichi shouted. “You need to start acting more responsibly. You're thirty years old, for God's sake!”

 

Just then, Gohan's cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then quickly flipped it open and answered. “Videl!” he said. “Are you back already?”

 

Gohan's face was largely unreadable as he listened for a moment. Then, his gaze sank toward the floor. “I know, I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm at Capsule Corp right now. I have some things I need to discuss with Vegeta.”

 

The others watched Gohan's end of the conversation with some trepidation; Gohan seemed to be becoming anxious about something. When he spoke again, there was a slight note of alarm in his voice.

 

“Oh, no, she doesn't have to...I won't be gone for too much longer, I'm sure-” he began. “You two can-” He paused, then sighed. “All right,” he said. “I'll see you then. I love you too. Bye.” He flipped the phone closed.

 

Gohan turned to the others. “Videl and Pan are home,” he said. “Pan's on her way over; Videl said that she's hyperactive and doesn't want to wait at home for me.” He frowned and sat back in his chair. “Videl's going to head over in the hovercar when she's done unpacking.”

 

Everyone looked up as Pan suddenly appeared at the window, hanging upside down. “Knock knock!” she called, then climbed into the room.

 

“Not through the window...” Chichi moaned.

 

“Mom, not now,” Gohan said quickly. He stood up just as Pan dove across the room and wrapped her arms around his neck.

 

“Daddy!” she cried. “You should have come with! We had such a _great _time!”

 

Gohan smiled gently and carefully lowered her to the floor. “I'm glad you enjoyed yourself,” he said, “but...” He eyed up his daughter's attire. “_What_ are you wearing?”

 

“It's my new bikini!” Pan said gleefully. She pirouetted to show off the glistening, metallic bikini top patterned with a dragon's face and forelegs. “Mom had a fit, of course...but I bought it with my own money, because it's _so_ cool. The bottom matches, see?” She grabbed the belt loops on her jeans and tugged them down off of her buttocks to show the bikini bottom, which was graced across the back with the dragon's tail.

 

Gohan palmed his face, and when he moved his hand, the internal struggle was readily apparent on his features. Finally, he sighed. “That's...great, Pan,” he said. “I'm sure everyone here wanted to see that. How about pulling up your jeans, now?”

 

His sarcasm was lost on Pan, who'd already lost interest. She absently tugged her jeans back into place as she looked around the room. She spotted Bra sitting on Goten's lap next to Trunks and squealed with delight. “Cute!”

 

Gohan started to reach for her arm, but she was already bounding across the room. She hopped onto Trunks's lap and slung her arm around his neck in a reflection of Bra's situation. “Look, bookends!” she said.

 

Trunks blushed red to the roots of his hair and squirmed uncomfortably underneath her. “Er...Pan...” he began. His hands hovered uncertainly between wanting to steady her in one place and wanting to anchor themselves to the sofa cushions, and he forced himself to look away from her nearly-bare back, which was only inches from his face.

 

Bra giggled at his discomfort. She leaned over and pulled Pan toward her to whisper in her ear. Pan suddenly grinned broadly and whispered back. The exchange went back and forth for a moment before Pan's eyes suddenly widened.

 

“That's right!” she exclaimed. “You _couldn't _see the front part, could you? Trunks, help me get these jeans off.”

 

“**NO!**”

 

The volume of the exclamation startled the teenage girls, who sat upright and looked around in surprise. The adults in the room quickly looked at each other, as they realized they'd all spoken the same thing at the same time, then back at the four on the sofa. Trunks and Goten exchanged a sickly look that suggested the two of them might die at any moment.

 

“God, you two,” Trunks said, “are you _trying _to get us killed?”

 

“Of course not, Dummy,” Pan said. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face into her chest, which sent Trunks into another fit of red-faced squirming. “You're the cutest boy I know; all of the other boys I've met are dorks or wimps.”

 

“That's right!” Bra said. She turned her face to smile at Goten. “As soon as you stepped into the shower, I knew no _other _boy could compete with y_phymph_!” Bra's statement was cut off as Goten quickly covered her mouth with his hands.

 

“Daddy doesn't want to hear it, Bra,” Goten said quickly through nervously-clenched teeth. He moved one trembling hand away from her mouth to rub anxiously on the back of his neck.

 

“_I_ want to hear it!” Pan piped up. She grabbed Bra's hand. “Come on, give me the details!” She pulled Bra with her as she leaped over the boys and the back of the sofa. The two of them quickly settled themselves behind the screen of the piece of furniture and resumed whispering. In between bouts of whispers, they giggled hysterically.

 

Goten turned red and slumped forward. “Vegeta-san...kill me now, please,” he begged.

 

Vegeta smirked. “What is that saying? 'You made your bed, now lie in it'? It's quite fitting, in this instance, I think.”

 

Goten groaned and covered his face with his hands.

 

“Still,” Vegeta continued, “this behavior is obnoxious, even for them. My daughter may be spoiled, but she can usually be reasoned with.”

 

Gohan rubbed his forehead. “Pan was never this obtuse in flaunting herself, even when her friends at school started in on it,” he said. “She was still wearing a gi to school when her friends were wearing miniskirts. I can only wonder if it's linked to seeking a partner.”

 

“I never really knew any Saiyan women,” Vegeta admitted. “Even seeing them in passing was a rare event for me, as I spent most of my time learning royal duties and campaigning with my father. I was five years old when I was taken away by Freeza, and not the least bit interested in women.”

 

“Well, there doesn't seem to be any other explanation,” Bulma began.

 

“And we already know that your condition causes Saiyans to do things they normally wouldn't,” Piccolo continued. He stepped into the room and surveyed the group gathered there, then folded his arms across his chest.

 

The giggling behind the sofa stopped, and attention turned back to the two girls. Goten and Trunks twisted around in their seats and discovered Pan and Bra peeking over the back of the sofa at Piccolo, regarding the Namekian through narrowed eyes.

 

“Hey, what gives?” Trunks asked. “It's just Piccolo.”

 

“Why is he here?” Pan asked. Her voice was lowered to barely above a hiss, and her eyes narrowed further as she eyed up Piccolo.

 

“Pan, he's just here to join our discussion,” Gohan said. A note of surprise tinged his voice and he tilted his head to look at his daughter with concern. “What are you upset about?”

 

“I'm obviously perceived as a threat by them, somehow,” Piccolo said. He started to walk toward the sofa.

 

Pan and Bra suddenly leaped up from where they were crouched and wrapped their arms around Trunks and Goten's shoulders.

 

“Back off,” Bra said. A low growl in her throat accompanied the statement, and she leaned possessively over Goten.

 

Pan mirrored the motion with Trunks, and raised her hand warningly, as though about to fire a blast of ki at Piccolo.

 

Vegeta and Gohan stood up at the same time; Goku and the others followed suit, and they watched anxiously as Piccolo halted where he was to assess the situation.

 

Gohan rubbed his forehead again; the throbbing in his head was not lessening as the tension in the room escalated. “Pan, this is ridiculous,” he said. “Use some common sense.”

 

“I expect common sense is beyond them, at this point,” Vegeta said in reply. He watched the two girls, who had not backed down from their stance, and the two young men, who were eying them nervously from within their controlling grasp.

 

The tension was suddenly broken as Bulma appeared from a side door, carrying a cardboard box. No one had noticed her slip out during the confrontation, and she surprised them again when she took long, flexible ice packs out of the box and tossed them over Bra's and Pan's shoulders. She tossed another pair onto Goten's and Trunks's shoulders as well.

 

“It's a good thing I put these in the freezer last night before we went to bed,” she said. “I had a feeling that we were going to need them. The morning's barely started and the kids have already lost it.” She tossed one each to Gohan, Goku and Vegeta as well. “Let's try to stay _ahead _our problems today, rather than _behind_ them, shall we?”

 

“Ah, thank you, Bulma-san,” Gohan said gratefully. He quickly pressed the ice pack to his forehead, then sat back down and closed his eyes for a moment.

 

Piccolo turned his back to the two couples on the sofa and walked back so that he was across the room from them once again. “The temperature is only going to increase as the day goes on, and that ice won't last at that point,” he said. “Have any of you considered a way of keeping yourselves in check? If those girls had gone over the edge with someone weaker, there could have been bloodshed.”

 

The others resumed their seats as well. “I know a couple of neuro-specialists who may be able to help us,” Bulma began, “but if the situation will resolve itself soon, I would rather not involve more people than necessary. It was hard enough explaining to the doctors about Trunks's and Bra's tails when they were born, and again when we had them removed.”

 

“Which I _still_ say I should have done myself,” Vegeta retorted. “I have no desire to be some human doctor's guinea pig and be poked and prodded with their needles while they try to figure out what makes a Saiyan tick.”

 

At the mention of needles, Goku suddenly went pale. “We don't need n-needles to fix this, do we?” he asked anxiously.

 

“How long _will_ this last, Vegeta?” Piccolo demanded.

 

“As long as it takes,” Vegeta replied snidely. “It's entirely biological; we have no more control over it than you have over the fact that your skin is green. The weather, and whether or not any of us have a child, will be the determining factors.”

 

“Perhaps the dragon balls-” Bulma began.

 

Piccolo was already shaking his head. “The dragon balls were used not two months ago to restore Uub's village and all of the villagers who were killed, after it was destroyed by a hurricane,” he said pointedly. “The balls are inert.”

 

Bulma's face fell. “Oh, right,” she said. She sighed. “Well, in the long run, they needed it more than we do.”

 

“Well, perhaps Videl will have some suggestions,” Gohan said suddenly. His gaze wandered vaguely toward the window as he spoke. “She's just about here; I can feel her ki nearby.”


	7. Chapter 7

Videl suddenly burst into the room, breathless from running. “I was catching up on the news on my way over,” she said, as she struggled to catch her breath. “Turn on the TV - I think we could have real trouble really quickly.”

 

Everyone looked up, startled, and Bulma hurriedly reached for the remote control for the television. She turned it on and flipped through the channels until Videl cried, “There!”

 

The screen was shifting from a news station logo to a view of a female newscaster and a sandy-haired young man wearing khaki work clothes. The woman looked into the camera as she led the program.

 

“We're back from break, and we have Professor Bertram with us to discuss some finds he and his team have made regarding the disappearance of East Capitol 35 years ago. There are even indications that it may have been the work of aliens!”

 

The newscaster turned to her guest with an expression of surprise. “This _is_ certainly an amazing turn of events,” she said. “While there have been ongoing explorations of the site of East Capitol since it was mysteriously destroyed, there have not been any substantial discoveries since those first few days of investigation. Can you tell us what your team has found, Professor?” she asked.

 

“Yes, certainly,” the young man said. He pushed sandy bangs out of his face and adjusted his glasses before continuing. “To preface this discovery, I must include some additional information; one of our team members recently was able to link an area of extensive damage not far from East Capitol to the damage done at the city itself. It was a simply amazing stroke of luck – but it seems that whatever the mysterious vehicles that crashed at East Capitol were, they were built from the same materials and technology as some delicate electronic parts left at the new site.”

 

Vegeta suddenly sat forward and carefully scrutinized the television. The professor lifted a small, white box onto the table and removed the top. Inside, broken pieces of white and gray material were mixed with tiny electronics and fragments of a translucent red material. Vegeta ground his teeth. “It's the scouter I crushed when Kakarotto arrived,” he said.

 

“What?” Goku turned his head and glanced quizzically at Vegeta. “There's no way it survived, between my fight with Nappa and all these years since then-”

 

“But it did,” Vegeta snapped. He started to continue, but was suddenly shushed by Bulma, who was straining to hear the television.

 

“So, you believe this device came from some sort of alien race?” the newscaster was saying. “What have you been able to learn about it to corroborate that theory?”

 

“Well, the electronics are highly advanced,” the professor replied. “But, when we reassembled what we could, we found that it's some sort of communication device, and one of the memory chips still had a portion of a communication between two individuals on it.”

 

“That would be the audio recording you provided to the station, correct?”

 

“Yes, that's right,” the young man said. “We're still trying to extract more data from the device, but we feel that what we've been able to get so far is important for the public to hear; there are indications that one or more of these aliens may still be on our planet.”

 

“That's definitely a startling idea, Professor,” the newswoman commented. “Let's listen to the recording and see what our viewers think.” She nodded toward someone off camera, who cued on a playback of the recording with images of the devastated East Capitol.

 

“_The power of Kakarotto's son...impossibly high for a Saiyan child,” _a young Vegeta's voice said. Vegeta glared at the television as the others sat up straighter, startled to hear Vegeta's voice from the recording.

 

“_Maybe his reading was wrong,” _Nappa's voice replied.

 

“_I don't think so. Not with the amount of damage Raditz suffered from that one strike,”_ Vegeta replied. _“It seems that mixing Saiyan and Earthling blood begets a powerful hybrid.”_

 

“_A Super Saiyan, eh?”_ Nappa commented. _“So if we spawn a flock of them ourselves...we could build another Saiyan empire!”_

 

Vegeta's sneer was evident in his voice as he replied. _“Don't be stupid. Do you want a lot of ingrate brats running around with powers greater than __**ours**__?”_

 

“_Oh...right,” _Nappa said.

 

“_We must exterminate all life on Earth!” _Vegeta declared.

 

The recording suddenly cut out and the hiss of static echoed out of the screen for a second before the video returned to the now wide-eyed newscaster and the young professor.

 

“That...that definitely sounds like reason for concern,” she said. “Professor, what have the experts on your team concluded from this?”

 

“It seems to us that these aliens – who call themselves 'Saiyan' – had at least two of their number on the Earth at the time of this recording; the one named Kakarotto and the one named Raditz. The child was referred to as the son of Kakarotto and a hybrid; that suggests that this Kakarotto was in a relationship with someone from Earth. These indicate a much earlier arrival than the time this device arrived on Earth, as well as the possibility that one or more of these Saiyans – including the child – may still be living here.”

 

Vegeta suddenly stood and kicked the table sitting in front of them. He crossed his arms and walked to the window, where he glared out at the lawn for several minutes. The others sat in uncomfortable silence, their eyes moving between Vegeta and the conversation that was taking place on the television.

 

The newscaster wrapped up the interview and Bulma turned off the television. “It doesn't look like they know anything else,” she said. “They're still trying to make sense of the damage left at the battleground where Nappa and the others fought.”

 

Vegeta's frown twisted into a deep scowl. “Of all the _stupid_ things to have been left behind from that disaster,” he spat.

 

“Well, you had no way of knowing that the battlefield would end up being linked to the East Capitol destruction,” Trunks began. “Of course a disaster like the disappearance of an entire city is going to be investigated-”

 

“I'm not talking about that ridiculous city,” Vegeta snapped. “The _mission_ was a disaster. I assumed that Nappa was just a moron when he let himself be beat - he couldn't even manage to die properly. But when I not only struggled with Kakarotto and Gohan, but had to _retreat_! I should have _known_ this would come back on me.” He balled his hands into fists and punched the wall next to the window, leaving a sizable dent in the smooth, metal surface.

 

The room was silent for a moment, then Bra tentatively spoke up. “Daddy, did you really come here to destroy this planet?” she asked.

 

Chichi suddenly sat stiffly upright and glared hard at Vegeta. “You didn't even tell your own children that?” she demanded.

 

Vegeta returned the glare. “Did _you_ tell _your_ spawn that you tricked Kakarotto into marrying you, because he didn't even know what marriage meant at the time?”

 

Chichi was on her feet in an instant and in Vegeta's face. “How _dare_ you insinuate-”

 

Goku quickly stepped between the two of them. “Come on, this isn't the time for arguing,” he said. “We need to stay focused on the problems at hand.”

 

Vegeta turned his back to Goku and Chichi and returned to Bra's question. “Yes, I _did_ come here to destroy the planet - or at least, all of its inhabitants,” Vegeta said. “That was why _Kakarotto_ was sent here in the first place. Earth was to be part of Freeza's planet trade empire.”

 

He paused, then returned to looking out the window. “Obviously, things have changed since then. It doesn't mean that anybody else will see it that way - especially those who were fortunate enough to never know about Freeza.”

 

“Well, this eliminates one option, at any rate,” Bulma said. She leaned back in her seat and gazed thoughtfully at the table. “We won't be having any outside doctors looking at any of you; no one needs to be drawing any unnecessary conclusions.”

 

“Doctors?” Videl asked. “What's going on? What do you need a doctor for?”

 

Gohan groaned. “My headache, for one thing,” he groused. He held out his hand to Videl. “Come sit down, Hon,” he said. “It's a long story.”

 

Videl walked over and sat down next to him. She noticed the ice pack he held pressed to his forehead and looked him over with concern. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Did you come down with something while Pan and I were gone?”

 

“That's an understatement,” Gohan muttered. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought to block out the pounding in his head. After a moment, he opened his eyes again. “Our Saiyan biology has decided to rear its head in full force,” he said. “All of us with Saiyan blood are running a fever, and it...affects our behavior.”

 

Videl looked around and noticed the others wearing ice packs for the first time. “What? But...Pan was fine...” She craned her head around and looked for her daughter.

 

“I'm _still_ fine,” Pan said from behind the sofa. She peered over the top of it once again.

 

“Which is why you and Bra are still hiding behind the sofa,” Vegeta said. He smirked at the disgruntled look on Pan's face. “Just because the two of you don't perceive any difference in yourselves doesn't mean no one else in the room does.”

 

“We're _not_ hiding,” Bra retorted. She and Pan stood up suddenly and jumped back over to the front of the sofa. They wedged themselves between the young men, with Bra pressed against Goten's side and Pan pressed against Trunks's side.

 

Vegeta turned away from them and addressed the others. “At this point, the best solution for most of us is going to be just to stay home. As much as I loathe the thought, I would suggest that Goten and Pan stay here; the two of them seem to have become attached at the hip to my children.” He paused, then looked directly at Gohan until the half-Saiyan met his eyes. “You, Gohan, also have to decide what you're going to do about your situation.”

 

Videl looked quizzically at Vegeta and then Gohan. “I don't understand,” she said. “Why would Pan have to stay here? What situation, Gohan?”

 

Gohan hung his head and hesitated for a long minute before speaking. “I might as well explain it here,” he said. “Pan hasn't heard it yet either, and I'd just as soon anyone who was _going_ to hear it get it from me firsthand.” He paused again, then pressed the ice pack to his eyes and began to speak.

 

“I don't understand the full scope of what's going on yet,” he said, “but Vegeta has given me a place to start for looking into it. Those of us with Saiyan blood are affected by the unusual weather pattern we've endured lately - it makes us seek out a sexual partner, to have children.” He stopped for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts. “It's been...inconvenient for the others. So far, the worst that's come of it for anyone else is a little embarrassment.”

 

At that, Goten averted his eyes and tried to avoid looking at Vegeta. However, as his gaze swept past the Saiyan prince, he realized Vegeta was not looking at him but was instead glaring at Goku.

 

Gohan took a deep breath. “I...got myself into a serious mess. I don't remember how everything happened...” He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “I am trying...trying hard to remember. I have flashes of meeting Piccolo, and struggling with him...hitting him. When I came to my senses, I realized I'd...I'd forced myself on him.” His voice trembled as he struggled to name his offense. “I...raped him.” He covered his face with his hands and leaned forward, shaking.

 

Videl's eyes widened in disbelief and then horror as Gohan explained what had transpired the day before. Her gaze moved briefly to Piccolo, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and arms crossed, before returning to Gohan.

 

“This...this is impossible,” Videl began. “And you mean to tell me Pan is...” her eyes moved to where Pan was seated on the sofa, clinging tightly to Trunks's arm.

 

Gohan sat up and rubbed his face before he replied. “Videl, I don't like it much myself,” he said, “but we don't have a lot of options here.”

 

“Like **hell** we don't!” Videl exclaimed. She jumped up from where she was seated and started toward Pan. “Pan, we are going home!”

 

“NO!” Pan shrieked. She tucked herself against Trunks and threw her ice pack at her mother.

 

Gohan was on his feet in an instant; raged blazed in his eyes as he caught the frozen pack inches from Videl's face and threw it against the far wall, where it split apart. “That's enough, Pan!” he yelled. “You pushed your luck too far with that stunt!” He strode quickly to the sofa and forcefully grabbed Pan's arm.

 

Pan cried out and tried to twist out of his grip; when Gohan didn't relent, she twisted herself around and beat on his shoulder with her other hand. “Let go!” she demanded. “Let go! I'm not going anywhere!”

 

Trunks pushed himself up from the sofa and stood in Gohan's face. “Take it easy, Gohan!” he demanded. “You're going to hurt her doing that!”

 

“_You_ stay out of this,” Gohan growled. He sank his fist solidly into Trunks's midsection and pulled Pan with him as he stepped backward.

 

“No, Trunks!” Pan cried. She raised her hand and fired a ki blast directly into her father's face; Gohan released her arm in surprise and she fled back to Trunks's side.

 

“Son of a bitch,” Trunks swore as he staggered back into an upright stance. “You...” he powered up suddenly to Super Saiyan.

 

Gohan raised his head and also began to power up, but he found himself suddenly tackled from behind by Goku and Piccolo. The two of them pinned his arms at his sides as Vegeta got between Gohan and Trunks.

 

Vegeta pointed at Pan. “Trunks, get her out of here, now!” he shouted. “And keep yourselves out of sight until Gohan leaves!”

 

Trunks scowled but powered down, grabbed Pan's hand, and fled down the hall; Goten took the cue and followed him with Bra in tow.

 

Vegeta turned to face Gohan and punched the half-Saiyan solidly across the face. “That's for hitting my son without provocation,” he snarled.

 

Gohan struggled in the binding hold Goku and Piccolo had on him. As his anger grew, the two of them were forced to raise their own power to keep him under control.

 

“Hold him as long as you can!” Bulma said. She quickly grabbed Chichi and Videl by the hand and pulled them along with her. “You two, come and help me out!”

 

Vegeta glanced after them; he knew that Bulma had another plan already forming, but if Gohan got completely out of control before she returned it would be too late. “Gohan, snap out of it!” he demanded.

 

Gohan's eyes flashed and he started to snarl a reply, but it was cut off as the four men were suddenly blasted by a large jet of ice water. Vegeta dove out of the way and the spray blasted Gohan directly in the face.

 

“Sorry, guys,” Bulma called. “But I'd rather have water all over my sitting room than have someone critically injured here.”

 

Gohan suddenly stopped struggling and relented under the spray of cold water; Goku and Piccolo released him and Vegeta signaled for Bulma to turn off the hose. As the water ceased, the men looked up to see the three women holding an industrial-sized water hose that wound out of the room.

 

“I brought the fire hose from outside,” Bulma said in reply to their looks. “I couldn't think of anything else to cool him down quickly.”

 

Gohan slumped to the floor and put his face in his hands. “I can't believe I lost control again,” he said. “And over something as ridiculous as Pan's tantrum.”

 

“She put Videl in danger when she threw that ice pack at her,” Vegeta said. “The same way you put Pan in danger when she twisted her arm trying to get away from you. We're just lucky none of you shed blood over it.”

 

Videl was clearly shaken. She quickly went to Gohan's side and knelt beside him. “Gohan, let's go,” she said. “I...I don't know what to think...what we're going to do about Pan...but I don't want you to get like that again.”

 

Vegeta nodded his agreement. “Take him home and cool his head for a while,” he said. “It wouldn't hurt for the rest of us to do the same. I think this spat demonstrates fairly well how volatile the situation is right now.”


	8. Chapter 8

Trunks turned away from Pan and quickly closed the door to his room after Goten and Bra were inside. He exhaled heavily and then turned to look at the other three.

 

“I don't know what the hell just happened out there,” he said, “but I think we'll be all right in here for the time being. It sounded like Dad was going to make Gohan and the others leave.”

 

Goten and Bra sat down on the bed, and Bra wrapped her arms around Goten's shoulders. “I wish I understood better what was going on,” Bra said. “It seems an awfully big reaction to something as simple as any of us hooking up.”

 

Pan scowled and looked at the ground. “I knew my mom would object,” she said, “and I figured my dad would at least want me to date for a while before spending the night; I never would have expected him to lose it like he did, though.”

 

Goten sighed. “I knew that Gohan has a temper in certain instances,” he said, “and I've heard that he's dangerous when it's set off; it has to be something he inherited from Mom, because her power also goes through the roof when she loses it. But it's always been bad guys – the kind who destroy planets or go on killing sprees – who have set him off in the past.” He rubbed his temples and lay back on the bed to look at the ceiling. “Urgh, it's driving me crazy just to try to make sense of it. _Nothing_ seems to make sense right now.”

 

Bra smoothed his hair back from his face sympathetically. “Well, it doesn't seem like we're going very far today, so try not to let it worry you too much right now,” she said. “From what Daddy said, we're going to be at home for a while.”

 

She ran her hand further into his hair, then pulled it back and looked at it in surprise. “Your hair gel is sticky again,” she commented. “It must not have all washed out in the shower earlier.”

 

Goten looked up in surprise, then ran his own hand through his hair. “Damn, it is,” he said. “I have to use a ton to keep this Saiyan hair in place – I should finish washing it out, or my hair's going to look like hell when it dries again.”

 

Trunks shook his head. “Only you two would worry about hair at a time like this,” he said. He nodded toward a door at the side of the room. “Goten, you can use my shower to wash it out. Preferably _without_ my little sister,” he said pointedly.

 

Goten made a face as he sat up. “Oh, shut up,” he said. “You don't see me belly-aching about my little niece being all over _you_.”

 

Before Trunks was able to come up with a retort, Goten stood and waved his commentary aside. “I'll be out in a little bit,” he said. He ducked quickly into the bathroom.

 

Pan growled and stuck her tongue out at the bathroom door. “I don't know where he gets off calling me little,” she complained. “_He's_ the one who keeps ditching his training; I surpassed him a long time ago.”

 

Trunks rolled his eyes. “Pan, you were able to beat him before you were able to tie your own shoes,” he said. He sat down and leaned back against the wall. “But he has a point – technically speaking, I'm old enough to be your father.” He looked uncomfortably at his shoes and rubbed at the floor with his toe.

 

“Feh, I'm not worried about that,” Pan said. She sat down next to him and leaned over to poke him in the nose. “What I want is someone who can at least keep up with me – and you know as well as I do that I'm not going to find that among humans anymore.”

 

“Well, there's the Budokai...” Trunks began. He edged away from Pan a bit as he spoke.

 

Pan shook her head. “Grandpa's having a hard time even finding participants these days,” she said. “No one can keep up with Mr. Buu, and _some_ of the idiots who try to enter can't even keep up with Grandpa. The Budokai is a freak show with a handful of mediocre talent thrown in.”

 

She suddenly moved forward and tackled Trunks before he could edge any further away. He fell onto his back and she quickly straddled his waist, pinning him to the floor. “So then,” she said, “do you have any other suggestions for me?”

 

“I...I...” Trunks thought desperately. He realized with growing horror that his mind had suddenly gone blank, and he had no response at all to give Pan. His heart started to race and a lump formed in his throat, stifling him.

 

Pan leaned down and touched her nose to his. “Or do you have a suggestion that you're afraid to offer up?” she asked huskily.

 

Trunks breathed in deeply in an attempt to calm himself, and he knew immediately it was a mistake. Pan's scent was raw and sensual; he couldn't tell if it was from perfume or simply from her natural scent in the seemingly increasing temperature in the room. Regardless, he felt driven to pull her closer and experience it again. He struggled with his emotions and tossed his head to the side to try to avoid more contact with Pan.

 

“Hey, Pan,” Bra said. “He's obviously not ready yet; you're not going to get very far that way.”

 

“Oh, just give me a few minutes,” Pan replied. She looked up to stick out her tongue at Bra, then turned her attention back to Trunks. She ran her hand lightly over the side of his face and down over the front of his shirt. She brought it back up to tease at his collar and smiled as he swallowed hard and shifted slightly underneath her. “You see?” she asked. “He just has to warm up to the idea.”

 

Trunks's eyes widened in surprise. He _had _to be hearing their conversation wrong, he thought. His little sister couldn't possibly be sitting by and not only watching, but encouraging, Pan. Their voices became muddled as he struggled with the thoughts in his head and the overwhelming urge to get out of his clothes and give in to the quarter-Saiyan sitting on top of him.

 

Additionally, the heat in the room was becoming unbearable. He was _sure _that the air conditioning was on in the house; if there was ever a time his mother wouldn't let it break down, this would be it. Yet with every passing moment, he found himself sweating more profusely and itching to pull the damp cotton shirt away from his body. He clawed at the hem of his shirt and tugged and released it several times to stretch it slack, but to no avail.

 

Pan's smile broadened into a grin at Trunks's efforts. She reached down and took his hands in hers. He moved his eyes to meet hers, and she lightly kissed the backs of his fingers before setting his hands down. “Here,” she said. She grasped the bottom of his shirt and tugged it upward. “Sit up; I'll take it off you.”

 

Trunks exhaled heavily and complied. The movement of air in the room was a brief but welcome respite on his sweat-dampened skin as Pan lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it behind her. She pushed him gently back to the ground and reached down to unfasten his jeans.

 

Trunks's alarm grew as she worked the button loose and tugged the zipper down; however; as suddenly as it rushed upon him, it was gone and replaced by a heavy haze that settled over his thoughts. He gazed up at Pan through half-lidded eyes and brought his hands up to his hips to help her remove the restrictive fabric. Pan moved off of him briefly and Trunks quickly finished stripping off his jeans. His boxers were close behind.

 

“Heh, much better,” Pan commented. She pulled off her own jeans and tossed them to join Trunks's.

 

Trunks's eyes widened slightly and he reached up to stroke the metallic-colored material of her bikini bottom. His fingers drifted over the design of dragon's claws wrapping around her hips and meeting in the front on either side of a brilliant dragon ball. “Oh, the four-star ball,” he commented absently. His fingertips skimmed over the glimmering image of the orange sphere.

 

“Like that?” Pan asked playfully.

 

Trunks nodded. He was no longer able to put together coherent thoughts for a proper reply.

 

Pan leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Well, maybe I'll let you play with it later,” she said. “We're going to put it aside for right now.” As she finished speaking, she slid her hands into the bikini bottom and pulled it off, then unfastened the top and let it slide down her arms and onto the floor. She lowered herself onto him again and smiled.

 

Trunks was breathing hard as he wrapped his arms around her waist. There was still a small voice in the back of his mind telling him to escape and get dressed again, but he felt overwhelmingly compelled to go along with Pan's wishes instead. His lips parted receptively when she brought hers up to kiss him.

 

Bra smirked and leaned back on the bed to wait for Goten to return. Her eyes traveled from Pan and Trunks to the ceiling, and they wandered over the smooth white surface for a moment. She looked back to the room again as she heard the door to the bathroom click.

 

Goten stepped into the room, still toweling his hair dry. He pulled the towel away from his face and glanced around the room; as his eyes fell on Trunks and Pan, he winced and pulled the towel over his face again. “God, you guys,” he muttered.

 

“Don't worry about them,” Bra said. “There's plenty to keep you occupied right here.” She winked at him and patted the bed beside her.

 

Goten gulped and finished rubbing his hair with the towel. His hair bounced upward of its own volition and arranged itself into its natural series of spikes reminiscent of his father's hair. He tossed the towel onto the edge of the bed and hesitantly sat down next to Bra.

 

Bra gazed up at his hair, then leaned in close and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You should let your hair fall naturally more often,” she said. “It's cute up off your neck like that.”

 

Goten looked quickly at the floor and frowned. “It looks too much like my dad's hair,” he grumbled under his breath.

 

Bra leaned back and pulled him toward her. “Well, just so you know, that doesn't make any difference to me,” she said.

 

Goten sighed. “That's good to know,” he replied. He flopped over on his side and looked at her. “I don't run out on a girl once I agree to be with her; that's why I've always been the one who was dumped rather than the other way around.”

 

Bra rolled over onto her side and took his chin in her hand. “Those girls didn't know when they had it good, did they?” she asked. Before Goten could reply, she slid up against him and pressed her lips to his.

 

Goten's face flushed, but he didn't try to resist her. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her snugly against his chest. He returned her kiss with equal passion; when the kiss finally broke, he gazed silently into her blue eyes. After a moment, he spoke. “I am still sure that when this mess is over, your dad's going to kill me,” he said. “I don't think he liked me that much before, and now I'm doing his little girl.”

 

Bra shook her head. “He meant what he said – I know that part of the reason he's scared off all of my other suitors is because they were punks or spoiled rich boys who thought they'd get a cut of the Capsule Corp fortune by marrying me.”

 

Goten leaned in and kissed her again. “Well, there's no fear of that here,” he said. “You wouldn't be able to tell it from my parents' house, but Grandpa Gyumao has a fortune; he's some kind of local king or something. I don't really get it, but I guess that's where Mom and Dad get their money to live off of; God knows Dad couldn't keep a job even if he tried.”

 

A low groan from the floor interrupted them. Goten and Bra glanced at the two on the floor and saw Pan wrap her legs tightly around Trunks's waist and snuggle him more tightly against her body.

 

Bra looked back to Goten and smiled. “I think they have the right idea,” she said softly.

 

Goten smiled back. “Sounds good to me.” He quickly pulled his shirt off and set it to the side.

 

On the floor, Trunks and Pan were oblivious to the two on the bed. They were each fully consumed in the feel of their body pressed against the other's.

 

Pan exhaled heavily as she wrapped her legs around Trunks's waist. She could feel his warm erection between her thighs and rubbed excitedly against it; she slid down to give him better access, and he angled his hips to meet her movements. The head of his member brushed against her crotch and thighs, and after only a moment of the teasing, Pan could take it no longer. She carefully positioned herself to allow penetration, and Trunks thrust forward firmly to accomplish it.

 

Trunks bit his lower lip to stifle a loud groan he felt building in his throat. The nagging part of his mind had quieted but had not entirely departed, and it warned him against too much noise. However, his attention was quickly being overwhelmed by Pan, and he sighed before leaning in to kiss gently along her throat and collarbone.

 

“Trunks,” Pan said softly, “Trunks, you're...incredible...”

 

Trunks smiled and cupped her face in his hand. “I'm glad,” he replied. He rolled his hips tightly against hers again, and he breathed out heavily as the renewed efforts sent a tingling wave of sensation through his body. He thrust against her twice more, then grasped her hips and rolled the two of them over so that he was on top of her.

 

Pan smiled as she rolled onto her back and wrapped her arms around his neck. She laced her fingers through his hair and adjusted her hips slightly. “I wondered when you were going to take the lead,” she said. Her eyes narrowed playfully. “So are you going to show me what a man can do?”

 

“Hn,” Trunks replied. He dipped his head down to kiss her jawline, then moved downward along her neck and to her breast. His lips traveled along the the soft rise to her nipple, then drew teasingly away; Pan groaned with the lack of contact, but he quickly replaced his lips with his hands. His fingers teased at the hardened nipples, then slid around to cup her breasts and massage them gently. He thrust his hips forward again, this time starting a fast rhythm.

 

“God, Trunks, I-” Pan began. She panted and angled her hips again, then thrust upward herself to meet his motion. “I'm...ah...”

 

“Pan,” Trunks breathed. He tucked his face alongside her neck and breathed deeply of her scent, and his pace quickened. “Pan, I'm about ready to-”

 

“Please,” Pan gasped. “Please, do it.”

 

The sounds of their coupling made it to the bed, where Goten and Bra were tangled in a half-dressed fashion. Goten's heart raced as his increasing desire was heightened further still by the sounds assailing his ears. He blushed a little at the thought of sex in the same room as others – especially with one of them being his niece - but the thought was quickly pushed aside as Bra pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

 

The two remained on their sides, with their arms wrapped around each other and kissing deeply, for several minutes. When they finally broke the kiss, Bra was panting softly and Goten breathed in deeply. He trembled with excitement as he unfastened his pants and pushed them and his boxers down off his hips; Bra slid her skirt up around her waist and quickly pulled her underwear off.

 

“God, Bra, I want you so bad right now,” Goten said. He slid his arms down to her waist and ran his hands down over the rumpled fabric of her skirt and onto her bare buttocks. His fingers kneaded the soft flesh, and Bra arched forward in pleasure. She ran her own hands down Goten's muscular abdomen and along the tops of his thighs, then brought them back around to work at his hardening cock. Her fingertips brushed his testicles, and he gasped suddenly, then rolled forward and positioned himself over her.

 

Bra smiled and lifted her legs to either side his hips. She drew his face down to hers and gazed deeply into his eyes before planting a soft kiss on the end of his nose. “I want you too, Goten,” she said. She let her fingers drift teasingly over his thighs and then moved them to her own.

 

Goten's eyes followed the delicate movements of her fingers until he couldn't contain himself anymore. He took her hands in his and pressed the swollen head of his erection into the soft folds of her pussy. She moved her hands, with his still holding them, to guide him as he found the small entrance he was seeking. He inhaled deeply as the sensation overtook him, then exhaled slowly.

 

Bra's soft cries of pleasure drew Goten's attention back to her face; he watched, enraptured, as she tossed her head to the side and her lips parted to allow quiet panting to escape. She slid her hands up his torso and onto his shoulders, then gripped them firmly and pulled him down close to her.

 

“Goten,” she said, “hold me...please...”

 

Goten wrapped his arms around her once again and pressed his hands against her back, holding her tightly to him as he moved his hips in time with hers. She wound her legs around his and rolled her hips, urging him to a deeper, faster pace. It was only a few minutes before Goten found himself arching into her as his climax neared.

 

Trunks's strangled shout announced his climax to the room. He put out his arms to catch himself as he tumbled forward, and his hair clung damply to his forehead as he let his head fall forward onto his chest. He breathed heavily for a moment, catching his breath, and watched Pan relax underneath him. She gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes for a moment, then let her head fall to the side as she began to settle into afterglow. Trunks lowered himself carefully to the floor beside her and brought her close to him.

 

The two of them rested like that for a long moment before Trunks leaned in and gently kissed her forehead. “We can rest for a couple of minutes, but then we should get cleaned up.” He nodded toward the bathroom.

 

Pan looked up at him. “Do you regret it?” she asked quietly.

 

Trunks hesitated and looked steadily at her before he replied. “Not as much as I thought I was going to,” he admitted. “You're a great girl, Pan,” he said. “I just worry that my age is going to end up hurting you or your reputation in the long run.”

 

She grasped his chin in her fingers and brought his face close to hers. “If nothing else, my grandfathers are both titled winners of the Tenkaichi Budokai,” she said. “I have a feeling that anyone who might think to make any comments they don't need to make, will think twice before doing so.”

 

“Then _you _don't regret it?” Trunks asked.

 

“Not a moment of it,” Pan replied emphatically. “I'm actually quite proud to have landed myself a Super Saiyan,” she said coyly.

 

Their conversation was interrupted by a long moan from the bed. Goten thrust down forcefully against Bra as he climaxed; she clawed at his shoulders and arms and cried out with pleasure as her own climax overtook her.

 

Trunks blushed heavily and looked away from the two of them. “This is probably a good time for that shower,” he commented.

 

Pan smirked and sat up. “Oh, you,” she said. “All right - let's hurry and get cleaned up; they'll probably want the shower next.” She stood and offered her hand to Trunks, then helped pull him to his feet. The two of them moved quickly into the bathroom.

 

Bra glanced to the side as Trunks and Pan fled to the bathroom, then turned her attention back to Goten. “Well, it looks like we'll have at least a short wait before we can shower,” she said, “which is perfectly fine with me.” She snuggled against Goten's chest and closed her eyes.

 

Goten moved awkwardly to finish kicking off his pants and boxers, then turned his full attention back to Bra. He wrapped his arms around her closed his own eyes. Thoughts of repercussions from their relationship flitted briefly through his mind, but the gentle haze of afterglow settled in and erased them.


	9. Chapter 9

Chichi watched from the lawn in front of the house as Goku waded to the center of the stream and dove under the water. He remained submerged for several minutes, then suddenly surfaced and shook the water from his hair.

 

“Wow, much better!” Goku called in amazement. He glanced over at Chichi. “Chichi, I'm going upstream to train for today!” he said. “I'll have fewer distractions there; I'll be back at dinner time!” He waved to her and leaped into the air, trailing drops of water from the legs of his gi, then disappeared into the the forest behind their home.

 

Chichi watched him leave and sighed. This was nothing new, nor was it completely unexpected. She was used to the idea that she was a distraction to his training - to the extent that he more than once disappeared for years at a time. Still, deep inside, it hurt. She had hoped that with age and with the increasing span of peace on the planet, he'd settle down a bit; however, time did not seem to affect her husband, either physically or mentally. Were it not for the massive amount he'd increased his strength over the years, he'd still be the boy she'd fought against at the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai.

 

She turned and walked back into the house to start her chores. She knew she'd have to have a washtub ready for his clothing when he got home; he was certainly going to smell of sweat and river water, and probably fish innards, as he would get hungry during the day and hadn't taken any food with him. She could already picture him coming in through the front door, tossing a sopping wet shirt onto the table, and kicking his gi off on the floor as he walked to the bedroom for a fresh one. She'd also have to make sure she had the bath cleaned and ready for him, so that he could bathe before he got dressed again and wouldn't get the smell all over the fresh laundry and the rest of the house. She glanced at the sink and remembered she also still had dishes from breakfast to wash before she started dinner.

 

Outside, a pair of dark eyes watched from the edge of the yard as Chichi walked back inside and paused in thought. They scanned the house's surroundings to be sure Goku was actually gone, then widened in delight.

 

“Unbelievable,” Tullece muttered. “Kakarotto really did wander off and leave her alone. What an incredible fool of a Saiyan.”

 

Tullece's eyes drifted from Chichi's figure to the freshly-washed clothes drifting lightly in the breeze where they were anchored on the clothes line. A plan was hatching in his mind, but he wasn't certain he could - or even wanted to - pull it off. Still, if it made landing the woman easier, he was willing to take a shot. He quickly discarded the cracked remnants of his armor in the brush behind him and moved stealthily to the clothes line, where he removed an orange training gi. He frowned at it for a moment, then shrugged off his distaste. His resemblance to the Earth-raised Saiyan would be worth it if everything worked out as he planned.

 

He quickly pulled on the gi and headed toward the Son house. When he reached the step, he carefully peered inside; Chichi had her back to him, humming to herself as she washed dishes. Tullece smirked, then soundlessly crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

 

Chichi gasped in surprise and dropped the dishrag back into the sink; she instinctively gripped his wrist with one hand and swung around with her other elbow extended; Tullece moved his own hand just in time to catch it before it hit squarely in the center of his chest. Chichi's eyes widened momentarily, then her face relaxed.

 

“Goku-sa!” she scolded. “Don't sneak up on me like that! I thought you were going to be out all day.”

 

“I changed my mind,” Tullece murmured. “I thought of something better to do with my time and energy.” He tilted Chichi's chin up with his finger and stole a quick kiss from her lips.

 

Chichi was stunned for a moment. She turned around to face him and leaned into his embrace. “I thought you didn't want the distraction,” she whispered.

 

Tullece closed his eyes briefly to mentally berate Goku, then opened them again to gaze down into Chichi's eyes. “The only distraction I see right now is distracting you from your work,” he replied. He ran his hands smoothly along her thighs and over her hips, lifting her tunic as he did so. “In fact, I plan to be a _very_ good distraction for you.”

 

“Goku-sa,” Chichi demurred. “Right out here in the open...”

 

“Oh, I'd say we're safe from prying eyes,” he said. “After all, it's just the two of us right now, isn't it?” He kissed gently along her collarbone and neck.

 

Chichi closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his lips on her skin. It'd been a long time since Goku had shown this much interest in her sexually, and she meant to take advantage of it. His hands moved away from her briefly, and she opened her eyes slowly to see him removing his gi. She smiled and leaned into his bare chest; she put one hand to his shoulder and slid her pants toward the floor with the other hand. She stepped out of her shoes and pants and pushed them to the side with her foot.

 

Tullece's lips twitched upward into a turned on smile. “That's what I like to see,” he said softly. He cupped Chichi's chin in his hand and stepped out of his clothes, then pulled her into a long kiss. Chichi wrapped her hands lovingly around his neck, and he moved his hands down to knead the soft flesh of her backside.

 

“_This is nice,_” Chichi thought. She relaxed into his grip and let the feeling of his warm body and calloused hands soothe her. She had been worried when she'd seen how drastically the kids' minds had been affected by the change in their hormones, especially in Gohan's case – the last thing she'd wanted was for Goku to become more aggressive and unpredictable. However, this change in him was rather pleasant, she decided. If this was how he was going to be for the duration, she could live with it.

 

Chichi's breath caught momentarily when Tullece lifted her up and straddled her across his hips; he eagerly pressed inside her and she gasped softly with the penetration. Rather than settling immediately into the semi-awkward, hurried pace she was used to, however, Tullece moved his arms to better support her weight and began a slow, measured motion against her hips. Chichi sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. She moved one arm to embrace him and threaded the fingers of the opposite hand into the back of his hair.

 

Tullece leaned in and gently took the edge of her ear in his lips; his tongue played with her earring for a moment, then moved on to lightly tease the bottom of her jaw. He moved his lips hungrily over her throat and shoulder. As Chichi's breathing became heavy and interspersed with quiet whimpers, he increased the pace of their sex. She tightened her grip on his body in response, and he exhaled heavily and returned his lips to hers.

 

He suddenly stiffened with shock as Chichi's foot made its way up the back of his leg and brushed along his tail. Chichi's eyes widened in surprise and she glanced around his shoulder to peer at it. For a moment, she was too stunned to think; she experimentally stroked the appendage with her toes, still in disbelief at what she was seeing.

 

Tullece groaned, and his eyes rolled backward briefly. His arms shook as he struggled to keep the two of them upright, and his tail twitched away from Chichi's foot, only to swing back around and wrap around her ankle. She jolted in surprise as the fur tickled the sensitive skin on her ankle and foot. Her attention returned to Tullece's face as he suddenly moaned loudly.

 

“Gods, Chichi...” Tullece said. He was sweating noticeably, and he clenched his eyes shut with the feelings he was experiencing. “That's...I'm...” His inarticulate speech faded into another groan and he pulled her tightly against him as he came. Chichi clung to him until he began to relax, then she slowly lowered her feet toward the ground. Tullece set her gently on the floor and leaned back against the counter, clearly spent.

 

Chichi carefully gathered up her pants and shoes. “I'll be right back, Goku-sa,” she said. “I just need to freshen up.”

 

Tullece nodded tiredly in acknowledgment and watched her step out of the room. He thought fast; he knew he didn't want to be there when Goku returned, but he was loathe to give up Chichi just yet. He'd never imagined that a human woman could be so amazing. And the way she'd used her toes on his tail - he shuddered with delight at the thought alone. He definitely wanted to experience _that_ again.

 

He straightened up and picked up the clothes he'd discarded earlier. He would have to put up with them until he could reasonably get away with obtaining something else, he decided. It would help with the charade of passing himself off as the other Saiyan.

 

Just then, Chichi returned. She was fully dressed once again, and she appeared to be deep in thought. Tullece hoped he hadn't done anything to give himself away; as he pulled the gi up over his hips he suddenly remembered that Goku didn't have his tail anymore. He realized he was going to need a cover if Chichi were to ask about it.

 

Chichi looked up as Tullece finished cinching the blue sash around his waist. His tail, having made its own hole in the back of the gi, wound up and around the sash to settle around his waist as well. The nagging thoughts she'd had while she was cleaning herself up returned. “_Goku-sa isn't supposed to be able to grow his tail back_,” the voice in the back of her head told her. “_Kami-sama removed it permanently when he was young._” She noticed he was watching her nervously. She thought it couldn't be possible there was another Saiyan who looked so much like her husband; Goten and Pan certainly resembled him, but they were blood relations, and aside from his sons and grand-daughter, Goku had no blood relatives left alive.

 

Tullece took a deep breath and forced himself to smile. Chichi seemed to notice his nervousness, and he didn't want to give her any reason to become suspicious of him. He walked up to meet her halfway across the room. “Chichi,” he began, “I had an idea...why don't we go somewhere nice, just the two of us? Think of it like a vacation.”

 

Chichi's eyes watered. Not since the Cell Games had Goku been interested in time with her; by the time the problem with Buu had been settled, Goku had turned his attention almost completely to training. The voice was sounding an alarm in the back of her mind, telling her this was too odd, even for the strange situation the Saiyans had become immersed in. This man before her was Saiyan, and looked like her husband, but he was too concerned, too passionate - too completely into her. She thought quickly as he wrapped his arms around her waist and watched her face for a response.

 

“Goku-sa,” she began, “do you remember the day Goten was born?”

 

Tullece's mind raced. “_Goten...Goten..._” he thought quickly. “_Must be Kakarotto's brat...his name was something like that, wasn't it? Yes, I'm almost sure it was._” He tried to put on a casual air. “Of course I do, Chichi,” he bluffed. “How could I forget my son's birthday?”

 

The tears in Chichi's eyes spilled over and she pushed herself away from Tullece. She stumbled to the table and sat down quickly in one of the wooden chairs.

 

“Chichi? What's wrong?” Tullece asked anxiously. Obviously, he'd given the wrong answer; he hesitated, then brought another chair around to sit before her and took her hands in his.

 

Chichi looked sadly at the hands clasping hers, then drew her hands away from him and wiped the tears from her eyes. She sniffled, then composed herself more and raised her eyes to meet his. “Who are you?” she whispered. “Why do you look so much like my husband? There aren't supposed to be any other Saiyans.”

 

“_Shit, shit, shit,_” Tullece cursed mentally. “_She either suspects or knows outright. But how? The tail?_” His face sank as he watched her eyes scan his expression. “Chichi?”

 

“You're a good guesser,” she said, “but Goku-sa was dead when Goten was born. He didn't even know that Goten existed until he came back many years later. And he definitely doesn't have a head for time or dates.” She smiled sadly at Tullece.

 

Tullece's shoulder's slumped forward and he hung his head. “So that's what it was,” he said. “I would have never guessed something like that...only Kakarotto would have known.”

 

Chichi nodded. “You use his Saiyan name,” she observed. “How do you know him?”

 

Tullece sighed. “He and I fought each other many, many years ago. I don't know him very well, and I don't know his son at all – the boy was small at the time. All I remember about the boy was his attachment to that flying reptile he kept as a pet.”

 

Chichi looked confused for a moment. “Flying reptile?” she asked. She suddenly realized what he was talking about and sat upright. “Haiya Dragon!” she said. “You mean Gohan - Goten is our second son.” She looked worriedly at Tullece. “But...you said you fought Goku-sa,” she began. “You're not...you're not his brother, Raditz, are you?”

 

“Hm? Raditz?” Tullece asked. “No, my name is Tullece; I'm just another third-class warrior like Kakarotto - it's just our class that makes us look similar. He and I fought over the Shinseiju.”

 

“Ah!” Chichi exclaimed in shock. “But...Goku-sa said that the tree was destroyed and those who'd planted it were all killed. He was sure of it...”

 

Tullece looked bitterly toward the floor. “Yes, he was quite sure of it,” he said. “Fortunately for me, Saiyans don't die as easily as our non-Saiyan comrades do. The rest of my team was wiped out, but I survived, if only just.” He looked away from her. “I suppose you want nothing to do with me now that you know,” he said quietly. “I admit the deception; I hoped to not alarm you by using my resemblance to Kakarotto - your son made the same mistake all those years ago. It's what gave me the idea.”

 

“Why come to me?” Chichi asked. “There are so many other girls on this planet, and so many who are younger and unmarried...”

 

“I came here once long ago, after I'd recovered from my injuries,” Tullece said. “I had wanted to challenge Kakarotto again...but by that time he'd become infinitely stronger than me. There was no way I could defeat him without becoming stronger myself. I also saw that your son...Gohan...had grown in strength; and then I saw you. You were of the Earth but possessed a strength I didn't see in many other Earthlings; I thought it must be where your son got his power.” He paused and looked at his hands. “I cursed life for being so unfair...but when this heat overcame me, and I felt driven to seek out a woman, I remembered you. It was probably poor judgment - I know that now that my brain has cooled down a bit. But I wanted you, and Kakarotto gave me the opportunity when he left you here alone.”

 

He was silent for a moment, and he couldn't bring himself to look up to see Chichi's expression. He didn't want to know yet what she thought of him. “I _still_ want you, Chichi,” he said. “I meant what I said when I invited you away from here with me.”

 

“Tullece,” Chichi began. She stopped as the light in the room suddenly grew dimmer, and a long shadow fell across the table.


	10. Chapter 10

Vegeta paced back through the living room, his brow furrowed deeply in thought. Bulma looked up from the papers she was reading as he stalked past the couch toward the opposite door.

 

“Don't let it bother you this much, Vegeta,” she called. “From what I can find in these press releases, the science team hasn't discovered any more than they put out to the press today. I've already put myself on the alert list for any further information they discover.”

 

Vegeta paused in his pacing. “It has happened at the worst possible time,” he said. “We're lucky Trunks is known for his childish antics, or the mess in that mall could have been a bigger problem as well. I do  _ not _ want nosy Earthlings to start coming around here.”

 

“The privilege of being a Capsule Corp brat,” Bulma commented. “I used to get away with everything under the sun for the same reason. Trunks is seen as nothing more than a spoiled playboy who always gets what he wants - as long as it stays that way, no one will question anything he does. Bra is in the same boat, except her classmates know she has a tyrannical father at home who threatens the lives of would-be suitors.” She winked at Vegeta and turned back to her reading.

 

“Hn!” Vegeta sneered. He glanced in the direction of the bedrooms. “Speaking of which, the brats have been quiet for a while now. They must have fallen asleep. There shouldn't be any problems now that there's no one here for them to fight with, but keep an eye on them all the same.”

 

Bulma nodded. “I already have the ice back in the freezer, and I added a few larger packs to the stock as well. I also had the pool out back drained and refilled with ice water. The robots will keep the temperature in it low until tonight.”

 

Vegeta inclined his head slightly to acknowledge her efforts. “And as long as those other idiots stay out of trouble...” he began. He let his attention wander to mentally check on the locations of the others. Upon finding them all in the wilderness or at home, he started to finish his sentence, then stopped short. “What the...”

 

“Vegeta? What is it?” Bulma asked. She watched with concern as his expression darkened. 

 

He held up his hand for silence and focused on something in the distance. After a moment, he scowled. “There are too many Saiyan ki signatures,” he said finally.

 

“What?” Bulma asked. “How can that be? Are you sure someone's not just moving around quickly? Maybe Goku with his Instantaneous Movement?”

 

Vegeta shook his head. “I know where Kakarotto is,” he said. “As well as Gohan and the others. The extra one is unfamiliar.” He started for the door. “I'm going to see what's going on.”

 

“Vegeta, wait-” Bulma began. However, Vegeta was gone before she ever got the words out. “_Saiyans_,” she sighed.

 

* * *

 

Trunks rolled over and watched Pan as she dozed lightly beside him. He still had reservations about their relationship, and now that his head was clear once again, his worries about what sort of future the two of them could possibly have together returned. However, Pan seemed to be content; even as she'd climbed into the bed beside him, she hadn't voiced any worries about the two of them.

 

“Is it still bothering you?” Goten asked quietly. 

 

Trunks turned his head to glance behind him at Goten. “Mm, yeah,” he replied. “A bit, anyway. There's just a lot to consider.”

 

Goten smirked. “Your playboy reputation is greatly exaggerated,” he said. “And here I'd heard you did a gal who was your mom's age.”

 

Trunks jumped and rolled onto his back to look at Goten more directly. “What?!” he exclaimed. Then, remembering the dozing girls in the bed with them, he lowered his voice. “You made that up!” he hissed. “Where did you hear bullshit like that?”

 

“Word gets around,” Goten replied vaguely. He smiled mysteriously up at the ceiling and avoided catching Trunks's eye. “Are you saying it's not true?”

 

Trunks turned red and scowled furiously. “Of course it's not true!” he seethed. “What do you take me for?”

 

“For someone who would do a set of twins on his graduation night,” Goten said slyly. “Never know what someone who likes double the fun is capable of.”

 

“_WHAT?!_” Trunks struggled to keep his voice in check. “Goten, I swear, if _you're_ the one starting these rumors-”

 

“What, rumors?” Goten asked innocently. “But they sounded so plausible...”

 

“You _are_ the one who made it up!” Trunks said. “Goten, if you wanted me to kill you that badly-”

 

“Hey, hey,” Goten said defensively. “Take it easy. You freak out too quickly - I made that shit up on the spot.” He grinned cheekily. “You think I don't know how boring you are? If only those 'hottest bachelor' articles knew...”

 

“Your sex life must be quite exciting then, Goten,” Pan interjected. She edged up against Trunks and draped her arm across his chest. “If Trunks is what you'd consider boring, anyway.”

 

Goten turned red at that statement. He clamped his mouth shut suddenly and diverted his eyes.

 

“Exciting enough,” Bra replied. She wrapped her own arms around Goten's torso and nuzzled the back of his shoulder, then peered over at Pan and Trunks. “Though I think if the bullshit gets much deeper in this bed we're going to have to call a farmer with a tractor to get the two of them out of it.”

 

“How long have you two been listening?” Trunks asked warily.

 

“Long enough,” Pan replied. “And I am glad to know that Goten's vivid imagination isn't all that accurate I'd hate to think I'd have to stomp any old ladies for being a jealous ex.”

 

Trunks sat up and ran his hands through his hair. “All of my exes are jealous, and all of them know better than to do anything about it,” he said. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “I think I'm going to go find something to eat,” he said. “It feels like everyone has left except Mom and Dad.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Pan said. She climbed out of the bed and pulled her jeans back on over her bikini. The others also got out of the bed and finished getting dressed, then cautiously headed down the hall.

 

The four could see Bulma and Vegeta talking in the living room as they approached; Trunks was about to call out to them, when Vegeta suddenly hurried from the room. His burst of energy was apparent as he quickly took off from Capsule Corp.

 

“Hey, Mom,” Trunks said, “where's Dad off to in such a hurry?”

 

Bulma turned in surprise. “Oh, Trunks!” she said. “He's off to investigate some weird energy he's feeling; he said something about there being too many Saiyan ki signatures around.” She frowned doubtfully at the doorway where Vegeta had disappeared.

 

“What?” Trunks asked. “How can that be?” The two young men and two girls mentally felt out the ki signatures of their families. 

 

“Dad and Gohan must be training,” Goten said. “They're both alone and neither of them are at home...” His voice suddenly drifted off. “But...there's also someone with Mom...” he continued. “The ki feels familiar, but I don't think it's anybody I know.”

 

“The extra Saiyan,” Trunks said grimly. “It feels familiar because it's someone of Saiyan blood - that's where Dad's headed.” He frowned. “It doesn't feel like anything Dad couldn't handle on his own, but we should follow him just in case.”

 

Goten nodded. “Let's go,” he said. “I want to be sure Mom's all right.”

 

The four of them quickly headed for the door.

 

“Don't start any trouble that you don't have to!” Bulma called after them. Trunks waved in acknowledgment as they took off into the sky.

 

* * *

 

Vegeta frowned as he zeroed in on the foreign ki signature; the Saiyan and Chichi were inside the Son house. Goku, on the other hand, was still some distance away. “ _ Leave it to that brain-dead moron to not even realize there's another Saiyan with his wife, _ ” he thought. He paused in mid-air and assessed the situation. The house was quiet, and there weren't any signs of a struggle. Neither the unknown Saiyan's ki nor Chichi's ki were fluctuating any. “ _ I suppose I'm going to have to be the one to tell him, _ ” Vegeta realized. He re-oriented himself on Goku's energy and flew quickly there.

 

Goku looked up in surprise as Vegeta touched down lightly on the bank of the creek. “Oh, Vegeta!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Marveling at your ignorance,” Vegeta replied. “There's an unknown Saiyan on this planet,” he continued, “I decided to let you know in case it comes down to me destroying your house.” He turned and headed back in the direction of the Sons' home.

 

“My house?” Goku called. He looked toward his home in confusion for a moment. “What-” His voice cut off as he suddenly realized the presence of Tullece's ki signature. He hesitated for a second, not wanting to believe that he recognized it, then took off hot on Vegeta's heels. He caught up to Vegeta and glared straight ahead as he spoke. “He's not unknown,” Goku said, “but he is supposed to be dead.” With that, he powered up and raced ahead.

 

The two of them landed outside the small house at the same time as Trunks, Goten, Pan and Bra. Vegeta arched an eyebrow as he looked them over. “What are you brats doing here?” he asked.

 

“We're here just in case,” Trunks said shortly. “Mom told us why you took off.”

 

“And I need to make sure _my_ mom is safe,” Goten said quickly. He was already moving forward toward the front door.

 

Goku had a lead on him and stepped through the open door. He stopped short as he caught sight of Tullece and Chichi seated at the table, immersed in a discussion that was all together too intimate for his liking. “Chichi?” he asked.

 

“Goku-sa!” Chichi exclaimed. She looked up at him, eyes wide, but hesitated before speaking further. She glanced at Tullece, who flinched before turning his head to look at the other Saiyan.

 

“Tullece,” Goku seethed through clenched teeth. “How are you alive?”

 

Tullece stood abruptly and faced Goku. “Through my strength as a Saiyan and my hatred for you alone,” he shot back. He narrowed his eyes as he spoke. “You destroyed everything that I had, but you failed to destroy me.”

 

“I won't make that mistake again!” Goku exclaimed. He lifted his hand before him and gathered a swirling ball of energy in it. 

 

Tullece quickly fired a blast into Goku's face; as he expected, it merely made the other Saiyan flinch, but it distracted him long enough for Tullece to get a word in edgewise. “Take it outside, Moron!” Tullece shouted. “I knew you were damned stupid when you left your wife alone, but trying to attack me with her right here is over the top!” He leaped forward with a hard punch toward Goku, who jumped nimbly backward into the front yard.

 

The others jumped back as the two Saiyans burst through the doorway and onto the lawn. They stared for a moment, unsure of what they were seeing. Tullece glanced around at them before turning his attention back to Goku.

 

“You're the same fool you've always been, Kakarotto,” he said. “I don't care how much stronger you've gotten; my pride as a Saiyan can only tolerate so much idiocy from you.” He started to raise his hand in attack, but was cut off by a blast from Vegeta that landed between him and Goku.

 

“I expect any Saiyan who's met Kakarotto would agree with you,” Vegeta said. “However, there are not supposed to be any full-blood Saiyans besides myself and Kakarotto left. You were not in Freeza's army - who are you, and how did you survive?”

 

“Vegeta, it doesn't matter -” Goku began.

 

“_I_ will decide what does and does not matter, Kakarotto!” Vegeta snapped. “Your wife is unharmed; be glad for that and leave the rest to me.”

 

“Vegeta?” Tullece asked. “You must be Prince Vegeta...or rather, King Vegeta, now; I had heard the king was killed when Planet Vegeta was destroyed.”

 

“Hn,” Vegeta replied. “Even the lowest-class warriors are sent into space with basic information recorded in their space pods, and most got information through other members of the army; where were you sent that you did not have knowledge of Freeza's actions?”

 

Tullece eyed Vegeta warily. “A place where there is no love for Freeza, that much is certain,” he said. “And the computer in my space pod seemed to be faulty; the recording was disorganized and appeared to have been rushed.”

 

Vegeta smirked. “You're one of the space pirates from the frontier regions of the empire,” he said. “Only they admit even vaguely to disrespecting Freeza. It's no wonder you've had no contact with other Saiyans before coming here...though it seems you know Kakarotto from an earlier date.”

 

“He and I have fought here before,” Tullece said. “I thought that perhaps he and his son would want to come with me and abandon their pseudo-Earthling life here; I was overly optimistic in that regard. Kakarotto insisted on believing himself and his son to be Earthlings rather than Saiyans.”

 

Goku frowned, and Vegeta shot him a look that warned him to remain silent. “And what brought you out again now?” Vegeta demanded. “You've obviously been in hiding for many years.”

 

Tullece tilted his head to indicate Chichi. “I let my guard down,” he said. “Kakarotto left me an open opportunity to fulfill my need for a woman, and I didn't keep my ki suppressed like I usually do.”

 

Vegeta snorted. “And of all the women on this planet, you had to choose Kakarotto's wife,” he said.

 

Tullece smiled lazily. “She's a fine woman...inside  _ and _ out.” 

 

Chichi reddened suddenly and looked at her feet; Goku's expression contorted into one of confusion.

 

Vegeta palmed his face. “I am  _ not _ explaining this one to him,” he muttered. 

 

Goten watched his mother's reaction with mixed feelings. She seemed to be embarrassed but not overly distressed by the allusion; he wondered if it were possible that her only regret with what had obviously transpired was that they'd been caught. He stepped forward hesitantly. “Mom?”

 

Chichi looked up hesitantly at Goten. Before she could speak, Tullece looked his way and interrupted.

 

“You must be Kakarotto's second son, Goten,” he said. “The boy I met long ago did not resemble Kakarotto so closely.”

 

Goten frowned. “I am,” he said. “What's it to you?”

 

Tullece nodded toward Chichi. “Come and take your mother out of the line of fire,” he said. “It's obvious at this point that Kakarotto has no intent of doing so.”

 

Goten glanced at Vegeta, who nodded shortly. He quickly walked over to stand in front of Tullece and Chichi; he assessed Tullece for a long moment before turning to his mother. “Come on, Mom,” Goten said, “this isn't your fight.”

 

“Goten,” Chichi began, “I...this is as much my fight as Tullece's.” She looked at her feet again, then looked back up and met Goku's eyes. “Goku-sa, I'm as much to blame as Tullece is; if you want to fight him, then fight me as well.”

 

Goku shifted his confused gaze to Chichi. “What?” he asked. “What do you mean?” He straightened and stepped closer to Tullece, Chichi and Goten, and he eyed Tullece suspiciously. “Just what is going on here?”

 

Tullece cracked his neck in an unconcerned manner before turning his lazy smile back on Goku. “I have to spell it out for you, Kakarotto?” he asked. “Surely you're not so dense as that.”

 

Goku frowned in response, so Tullece continued.

 

“I screwed your wife, Kakarotto,” Tullece said plainly. “And I must say, she's probably the finest lay I've had. I certainly wouldn't mind having more.” 

 

Vegeta chuckled suddenly, then laughed outright. “You've got balls, I'll give you that,” he said. “It's almost too bad you also seem to have a death wish - we could use more Saiyans with spine on this planet.”

 

Goku was not so amused. His expression became suddenly fierce, and he raised a ki-filled fist before him. “Tullece, you-” he started. He swung the fist directly at Tullece's face.

 

Before the fist made contact, however, Goten stepped between them and caught it in his own hand. Goku blinked in surprise.

 

“Goten?” he asked warily. 

 

Goten shook his head slowly. “Do you plan on punching Mom as well?” he asked.

 

“Of course not!” Goku replied indignantly. “This is between me and Tullece - now step aside.”

 

“No,” Goten replied.

 

Goku's eyes narrowed as he regarded Goten. “What?” he asked quietly.

 

Goten never took his eyes off his father as he addressed the Saiyan behind him. “Tullece, take my Mom over to stand with the others. Vegeta wanted to speak with you anyway,” he said. He kept his grip on his father's fist firm.

 

Tullece regarded the younger man curiously for a moment, then nodded to Chichi and pointed to where the others were standing. He guided her, protesting, away from the father and son.

 

“Goten...” Goku said warningly.

 

“You messed up again, Dad,” Goten said quietly. “You got lucky when you walked away from Mom before; this time it cost you.”

 

A spark of anger flashed through Goku's eyes in a split second, and as it did so he suddenly jerked his fist from Goten's hand and slapped his son across the face. Then, even as the others gaped in shock, he blinked in surprise at his own action.

 

Goten stood unmoving for a moment as the impact of Goku's slap hit home. He was just as surprised as the others, and for a moment he didn't know how to react. Then, his pent-up anger and the resentment he harbored all exploded at once, and he sunk his fist deep into Goku's midsection.

 

Goku doubled over from the blow, then quickly straightened and responded with a kick to Goten's side. Goten saw it coming and brought his own leg up to block the kick. Before any of the others could recover from their surprise, the two of them were furiously trading blows.

 

Chichi's shock turned to horror as Goku and Goten's fight picked up in intensity. She watched her husband and son speechlessly for a moment before she was able to form coherent words of protest. “No...Goku-sa...Goten...”

 

Tullece scowled and took a step forward. “The boy's fighting my fight,” he muttered. “I won't have it-”

 

Vegeta reached out and put his arm out in front of him and Chichi. The two looked at Vegeta quizzically; Vegeta shook his head. “He's not fighting your fight,” he said. “This fight has been a long time coming; your quarrel with Kakarotto finally pushed him over the edge.”

 

“Wha...what do you mean?” Chichi asked. “A long time coming? What's going on?”

 

“You must have noticed how frustrated the boy has been with Kakarotto's constant training,” Vegeta replied. “He makes no attempt to disguise his disappointment in his father being constantly away from home.” He watched the two battle for a moment on the lawn in front of them. “He's wanted to take it out on his father for a long time, but he knows that he can't stand up against Kakarotto's power.”

 

Even as he said it, Goku landed a well-placed kick on Goten's chest that sent his son flying backward. Goten landed on his back at the feet of the others. He remained unmoving for a moment; Goku watched him carefully, and his expression changed from one of jaded readiness to concern.

 

Goten groaned quietly and gripped his ribs, then slowly sat up. Trunks, Pan and Bra quickly reached down to help him as he struggled to his feet. He glared at his father before turning to them.

 

“Mom's safe,” he said, “and I think my ribs are cracked.” He paused to catch his breath. “I can't fight anymore,” he admitted. “Let's go.”

 

“Goten-” Goku began.

 

“Go to Hell,” Goten muttered. He waved off the start of a protest from his mother and looked at Trunks in an unspoken request for them to leave.

 

Trunks nodded and slung one of Goten's arms over his shoulders. “Dad wanted to take care of this anyway,” he said. “We'll get you home and bandaged up.” He looked to Vegeta as the two of them and the girls lifted into the air. “We'll see you later, Dad.”

 

Vegeta watched them out of the corner of his eye as they left, then addressed Goku, Chichi and Tullece. “I want answers out of  _ you _ ,” he said. He pointed at Tullece and indicated that the other Saiyan was to follow him. “We're going to talk where we won't be interrupted.”

 

Then, he glanced at Goku and Chichi. “Kakarotto, your problems with your marriage are  _ not _ my problem, and I don't want them to become my problem. This Saiyan is no threat to us - I will deal with him. You take care of your own problems.”

 

“Vegeta-!” Goku protested.

 

“I mean it!” Vegeta shouted. “Mind your own business!” He jerked his head to tell Tullece to follow him and took off into the sky; Tullece glanced back at Chichi and Goku, then quickly followed, leaving the husband and wife to stare uncertainly after them.

 


	11. Chapter 11

“Gohan, please tell me what's going on!” Videl cried. She followed Gohan as he stalked through their home and into the bedroom. “I heard what you said at Capsule Corp, but it makes no sense. Tell me what's going on inside your head,” she pleaded.

 

“I don't _know_ what's going on inside my head, Videl,” Gohan replied. “I can't make sense of it myself; I didn't _want_ to lose it like I did, and I didn't _want_ to lose control with Piccolo. It just happened that way, and now I have to sort out the mess.” He pulled his wrinkled and still slightly damp shirt off and tossed it into the laundry bin, then found a fresh shirt in the closet; he paused and returned it in favor of a training gi. 

 

He turned and cupped Videl's chin gently with his hand. “In the meantime, I'm going to go work out alone somewhere. I know how you feel about having another child, and I don't want to force you into anything. Maybe if I go and blow off some energy then cool off in a lake or stream I'll feel more stable; it'll mean eating up more of my time during the day, but hopefully I'll be able to keep working my job and not bother you or anyone else with this mess.” He looked at his shoes as he said the last part; both he and Videl knew he was referring to Piccolo, but he couldn't bring himself to think for long about the possibility of attacking Piccolo again.

 

Videl leaned against Gohan's chest. She listened to his strong heartbeat for a moment as she considered her words. “Gohan, I still love you despite what's happened,” she said. “I understand that it was a mistake, and even though I don't understand all of what's happening to you, I can accept that it was out of your control.” She paused. “Please tell me you're working on a solution for this, so our lives can get back to normal.”

 

“Of course I am,” Gohan replied softly. “I'm not entirely sure what 'normal' means for me; that's something my mom struggled with my whole life. But, my routine now is comfortable, and I'd rather not shake it up more than I have to.” He wrapped his arms around Videl's shoulders and held her close to himself for a moment. “And I meant what I said; I have no intention of hurting you over this. If I can't manage it effectively...if I'm not able to stabilize myself enough to live normally...I don't want you to endanger yourself by staying or trying to fight me. If it comes down to that-”

 

Videl put her finger to Gohan's lips to silence him. “I'm not leaving you, Gohan. I  _ can't _ leave you alone to deal with this. We'll go through it together.”

 

Gohan took her hand in his and moved the finger away from his lips. He gently kissed the back of her hand and looked steadily into her eyes. “It's only a contingency plan, Videl,” he said. “I know you're strong, and I know you love me; however, when I lose myself - especially if I lose my temper as well - I'm dangerous. I  _ know _ I am, and I know very few others can stand up against me when it happens. I want you to be safe.” He touched his forehead to hers and never broke contact with her eyes. “Promise me, Videl,” he said. “Promise me you'll keep yourself safe. Go to your dad's house, go to my parents' house...but go somewhere you'll be safe.”

 

Videl sighed before answering. “I promise, Gohan,” she said finally.

 

“Thank you,” Gohan said. He moved his lips down to hers and kissed her tenderly; when her lips moved against his in response, he deepened the kiss. Gohan moved his hands up Videl's back and tangled his fingers in the hair on the back of her head. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her mouth and the soft strands of her hair. Gohan suddenly realized he was beginning to enjoy it a bit too much, and his eyes flew open. He broke the kiss and slid his hands back down to Videl's shoulders. “I need to go,” he whispered hoarsely. 

 

Videl's eyes watered, but she nodded. “Go on,” she said. “I'll be here when you get home.”

 

Gohan slung the training gi over his arm and bolted for the door. He took to the air as soon as he hit the front step and flew northward toward the open countryside. He scanned the terrain as he flew for any sign of a place that was both uninhabited and was not parched by the searing heat that seemed to be gripping the entire planet. After a few minutes he spotted a small, clear lake nestled in a dense forest. There was no sign of homes or villages nearby, so he quickly dropped down to the side of the lake and looked around.

 

A few birds chirped quietly to each other among the branches of the nearby trees, otherwise, the area around the lake was silent and peaceful. Gohan breathed a sigh of relief; he loosely folded his gi and dropped it on the grass, then stripped off his remaining clothes and dropped them beside the gi.

 

The water was cool on his skin as he waded out into the lake; when the water was over his waist, he dove under the surface and swam to the center. For being relatively small, the lake was surprisingly deep, and the yellow sunlight filtering down from above quickly became a greenish shine above him as he swam to the bottom.

 

He sat there for several moments, his legs crossed and resting lightly on the muddy bottom while he cleared his mind. He focused only on the breath he held in his chest and dismissed the tumultuous thoughts that flitted through his mind. He knew if he wanted to overcome this newest complication in his life, he was going to have to start by getting a grip on his thoughts first.

 

As much as he wanted to, however, he wasn't able to get his mind to remain calm. Each time he was on the verge of finding peace, some new thought would find its way to the forefront of his mind and distract him. He started to become frustrated; it was not normally this difficult for him to focus. Even as he made that realization, however, he found his mind wandering again, this time feeling out other ki signatures on the planet.

 

“_Dammit_,” Gohan cursed to himself. “_I can't keep doing this. What the hell is going on with me?_” 

 

Suddenly, he came across an energy he barely recognized but left him in disbelief for a moment. He blinked, then launched himself off the bottom of the lake toward the surface. Water droplets flew out to all sides as he broke the surface, but his upward path was abruptly stopped short when he slammed into an immovable object. Gohan rubbed the back of his head where he'd made contact and looked up to see Piccolo hovering above him, his foot firmly planted on Gohan's head.

 

“P-Piccolo?” Gohan asked. 

 

“Vegeta and the others are handling it,” Piccolo replied shortly. “You're not going anywhere in the condition you're in.”

 

“Piccolo, don't you recognize-”

 

Gohan was cut off as Piccolo forced his head underwater with his foot, then let him return spluttering to the surface a moment later.

 

“Of course I recognize the ki,” Piccolo snapped. “_You_, however, didn't even notice me moving to block you until you ran into me. You're in no state of mind to fight.”

 

Gohan clenched his hands into fists and looked down at the water. “This is maddening,” he muttered. “I have to be able to beat it.”

 

“I suggest you start by finding out why you're so much more dramatically affected than the others, including your brother,” Piccolo said. “You share parents - how your Saiyan heritage affects you should be nearly the same.”

 

Gohan frowned, then sighed and settled on his back in the water and gazed up at the sky. “You're right, as usual,” he replied. “And there shouldn't be that much difference between me and Goten - our power level, mostly. And we've both been able to-” His train of vocal thought cut off suddenly as the realization swept over him.

 

“Both been able to _what_?” Piccolo asked.

 

“Go Super Saiyan...since we were little,” Gohan finished slowly. “Except...I can't transform anymore; I haven't been able to since Rou Kaioshin sealed my power to spike my natural state.”

 

“And in sealing your Saiyan abilities, he inadvertently affected your Saiyan biology as well,” Piccolo continued for him. “It makes sense...and if that is indeed the case, then there's not likely anything here on Earth that will be able to change it.” He drifted upward slightly and glanced down at Gohan. “I'm going to head to the Lookout; perhaps there are some scrolls there that can shed some more light on it.”

 

“I could come with-” Gohan began.

 

“Stay put and keep yourself under control!” Piccolo shot back. “Until a solution to the problem is found, the best place for you is away from other people.” He turned away from Gohan and rocketed through the sky toward Kami's Lookout.

 

Gohan sighed as Piccolo disappeared into the distance. He knew the Namekian was right, as usual. It was frustrating to be so helpless in the face of his own body; the closest thing he'd experienced before had been his transformation into an oozaru, and that was only a hazy memory.

 

He sighed and hauled himself out of the water. He stood in the sunlight for a moment, letting himself drip-dry; then he pulled on his training gi and looked around. He was alone, and there was no sign of anyone approaching him. He exhaled slowly in relief, and started into warm-up stretches. He hoped a good workout would take his mind off Tullece and the others. He had no doubt his father or Vegeta could handle Tullece alone, let alone together, but he could still feel a bubbling resentment toward the third-class Saiyan pirate in the back of his mind.

 

Gohan forced the thoughts to the side. Dwelling on old hurts would only rile his temper, and that was exactly what he needed to avoid doing. He focused on centering himself once again and blocked out the other ki signatures. As he moved through his exercises, he made himself concentrate on only the motion of his body, the air on his skin, and the lakeside grass under his feet.

 

It was late afternoon when Gohan shielded his eyes against the sun to take stock of the time. The low angle of the sun told him that afternoon was quickly becoming evening, and he stood quickly to brush himself off. It took him only moments to gather up his clothes and head back toward his house.

 

The house was quiet when he opened the door. He glanced around quickly. “Videl! I'm home!” he called. Hearing no reply, he headed to their bedroom. As he stepped into the room, he saw Videl kneeling in the closet, sorting through a box on the floor. “Videl?” he asked.

 

Videl sat up suddenly. “Oh, Gohan!” she said. “I didn't hear you come in. Are you feeling better?” She turned her attention back to the box in front of her.

 

“A bit,” Gohan replied. “I found an isolated lake where I spent the day today.” He hesitated; he wasn't sure if telling her about Piccolo was a good idea or not. However, he felt badly about keeping the information from her. “Piccolo stopped to talk to me today,” he began.

 

Videl froze. “Piccolo?” she asked.

 

Gohan nodded. “He...wants to help figure out what's wrong with me,” he said. “And he did help a bit – it was because of him that I remembered how I'm different from the other Saiyans here. Rou Kaioshin altered my Saiyan abilities, and he didn't do it to anyone else.”

 

Videl looked at the floor. “And that has some effect on your condition?” she asked quietly.

 

“Possibly,” Gohan said. “It may, at least, help explain why I'm struggling with it so much more than the others.” He crouched down beside her and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Piccolo went to the Lookout to see if there is anything in Kami's Palace that will shed more light on it,” he said. “I'm sure there will be a solution soon.”

 

Videl sighed. “I hope so,” she said. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “In some ways...I want to help; but, when I remember how hard it was when I was pregnant with Pan...” She let her thought trail off.

 

Gohan wrapped his arms around her. “I know,” he said. “And I understand that you don't want to go through that again. I'm certain there must be some other way around this.” He smiled softly at her. “Now, what is it you're looking for? I have some time before work; I may be able to help you find it.”

 

Videl smiled gently in return and kissed his shoulder before looking back at the box again. “Daddy called today and said that a documentary is being made about the Tenkaichi Budokai. He had been working on some new promotions for the next one anyway, with it being the 33 rd Budokai and all, so they asked if he might be able to put together a display of memorabilia, even costumes from previous participants, for them to photograph. He wanted to know if we have the Great Saiyaman costume around anymore.”

 

Gohan chuckled. “That old thing?” he asked. “Here, I think I know where it is.” He reached around her to a shoe box in the back corner of the closet. “I didn't want to risk it getting mixed up with my regular watches,” he said. “I put it in here with some of my old awards from high school.” He opened the shoe box and drew out a men's digital watch.

 

“Does it even fit you anymore?” Videl asked.

 

“One way to find out,” Gohan said. He quickly stood up and put the watch on his wrist. He pressed the red button on the side, and a charge of energy ran over his clothes. The Great Saiyaman costume appeared in place of them. Gohan turned and looked in the bedroom mirror in surprise. “Wow, it fits like the day it was new!” he exclaimed. “It must resize itself automatically...Bulma really is a genius.”

 

Videl stood up and smiled. “It looks just as good, too,” she said. “It's almost too bad we retired the Great Saiyaman and Great Saiyaman II.”

 

“Ha ha! Wouldn't that be something – the college professor who's secretly a super hero.” Gohan looked at his reflection a moment longer, then shrugged and took off his scarf. He set it on the bed and tossed the sunglasses down on top of it. The rest of the costume quickly joined them. “I'll keep the watch here, just to be on the safe side, but your dad can go ahead and display the costume on a mannequin if he wants,” Gohan said.

 

Videl quickly folded the costume and stacked it on a table near the bed. “Thanks, Gohan,” she said. “I'm sure he'll appreciate it – he's really pulling out all the stops to try to revive interest in the Budokai.”

 

Gohan gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning toward the master bathroom. “No problem,” he said. “I'm going to grab a cold shower before work. Let me know if you need anything else.”

 

He closed the bathroom door behind him as he entered and moved quickly to turn on the shower. He turned to grab a wash cloth from the shelf and caught his reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror.  _ “Great Saiyaman, huh?” _ he asked himself.  _ “Those were the days. To think, back then I was hiding my power just so that I'd appear to be a normal teenager.” _ He turned back to the shower and stepped inside it.  _ “But, if that recording they found on Vegeta's scouter says anything about it, I'm not even a normal Saiyan,” _ he thought. 

 

He leaned against the wall of the shower and wrapped his arms around himself.  _ “I need to not worry about this for a while,” _ he told himself.  _ “I need to just get through work tonight so that I can get some sleep and start on it fresh tomorrow.”  _ He tilted his face up and closed his eyes against the chilly spray from the shower head.

 

Suddenly, a knock on the door and Videl's voice sounded through the cascade of water. “Gohan?” she called. “Are you okay? You've been in there a while.”

 

“_Hmm? A while?”_ Gohan thought. He opened his eyes and turned off the water, then stepped out of the shower. 

 

Videl opened the door and peeked inside. “Gohan?” she asked.

 

Gohan grabbed a towel and quickly dried himself off. “Yeah, I'm okay,” he said.

 

Videl breathed a sigh of relief. “You'd been in there for twenty minutes,” she told him. “I was hoping you hadn't fallen asleep; I wouldn't want you to be late for work.”

 

“Twenty minutes?” Gohan echoed in disbelief. “I must have really zoned out; I could have sworn I was only in there a minute or two.”

 

Videl's brow furrowed in concern. “Are you sure you want to go to work tonight?” she asked. “I know it'd be short notice, but you could call in sick.”

 

Gohan shook his head. “I'm sure I'll be fine once I have something else to focus my attention on,” he said. “I don't know how long this will go on for, and I don't want to miss more work than necessary.” He opened the door further and moved past her into the bedroom.

 

Videl sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him as he got dressed. “I'm just worried about you, Gohan,” she said. “There haven't been many times that I've had to be concerned about the fact you're half-Saiyan, but those times I have...I just don't want something really bad to come of this.”

 

Gohan straightened his tie and walked over to stand in front of her. He reached down and took her hands in his then guided her to her feet and pulled her against him. “After all that's happened in my life, I know better than to promise you nothing bad will ever happen again; but, I don't think this is going to be as bad as some things have been. There are no super-powered monsters or galactic conquerors to defeat now. The world has been at peace for a long time.”

 

Videl wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close for a moment without responding. “I hope you're right,” she said finally.

 

Gohan kissed the top of her head. “I do too,” he said. He stepped back slightly and held her away from him to look into her eyes. “I need to get going to work; I'll call you during my break to let you know how things are going.”

 

Videl nodded. “Have a good night,” she said. She kissed him lightly on the lips, then stepped back and watched him leave for work.

 

Gohan soared high into the sky and flew across the city to the university. He hovered a moment, knowing he was well out of range of most peoples' sight, then landed discreetly near one of the buildings. He took a deep breath and adjusted the lapels of his jacket as he stepped up to the glass doors. The doors automatically slid open, and he waved to the secretary at the front desk, who was talking animatedly into a phone, as he made his way to his classroom.

 

The room was filled with chatter when he walked in. Gohan was unsurprised - it was typical of his students to be outgoing. What  _ was  _ unusual was the topic of their conversation. Gohan was sure he heard the word “Saiyan” floating around the room in several places, and as he glanced to the side he saw a tabloid-style paper changing hands.  _ “Wonderful,” _ he thought.  _ “I can't even get away from it here.” _

 

He cleared his throat and called out above the noise. “All right, all right! Please settle into your seats and get ready for class.”

 

Gohan was pleased to see the tabloid and other miscellaneous items disappear into backpacks. They were quickly replaced with notebooks and ink pens. This was one thing he prided himself on - his students were diligent workers with a strong desire to learn.

 

He quickly stepped behind his desk and flipped open the planner. He was relieved to see he had scheduled a simple lecture for that evening; the least physical exertion he had to put out, the better. He could already feel his temperature starting to creep upward again, and he glanced toward the window at the back of the room. "Miss Calloway," he called, "would you mind opening the window? It's a bit too warm in here; I'll have to speak with someone during break about the air conditioning."

 

The young woman looked up in surprise and exchanged a quick glance with those sitting near her; the others' looks reflected surprise as well. None of them seemed to have noticed anything amiss with the temperature in the room. Still, she quickly stood and walked to the window. “Yes, Sir,” she replied.

 

Gohan nodded in thanks and turned to the blackboard to begin his lecture. He quickly traced a number of diagrams with white chalk. “We'll be picking up where we left off last time, with discussion of the moon's role in the solar and lunar eclipse,” Gohan said.

 

Gohan paused briefly and listened to the sound of pencils and pens scratching paper as his students hurriedly copied down the diagrams and information from the chalkboard. He wiped a bit of sweat off his brow with the cuff of his sleeve, then frowned. “_Dammit, I don't need this tonight,_” he thought. “_I need to be able to keep it together for at least a few hours._” He loosened his tie a bit with the hope of getting some fresh air from the window into his lungs and returned to his lecture.

 

The students watched him with concern. While Gohan had always maintained a casual grace in how he carried himself, he was also always polished and alert; tonight he seemed overly distracted and uncomfortable.

 

Gohan's attention wandered toward the back of the classroom as he spoke. He heard the faint but distinct rustle of paper changing hands; after it changed hands for the third time, he paused in his lecture and held his hand out behind his head. “Bring it up here,” he instructed.

 

A young woman stood and walked to the front of the room, her cheeks colored with a deep blush and a sheet of folded paper in her hand. She handed the note to Gohan and stood there, trembling and embarrassed, while she waited to be excused.

 

Gohan quickly scanned the note. “ _I think something's wrong with Son-san. Do you think he might be sick? I thought he never got sick._ ” His expression softened. “I thank you for your concern,” he said. “I-” He started to turn around, but as he moved the currents of air in the room carried the young woman's scent over him. His world reeled wildly for a moment, and he reached out and caught himself on the edge of his desk as he fell.

 

“Son-san!” The young woman knelt quickly next to Gohan, and a group of additional students rushed up to the front of the room behind her. “Son-san, are you all right?”

 

Gohan found himself struggling to breathe as his fever spiked sharply upward. “Ice,” he managed to say. “I need...ice.”

 

A young man at the back of the group quickly ran for the door. “I'm getting ice from the nurse's office!” he called.

 

Gohan groaned. If the campus nurse got involved, things were going to get even more complicated than they already were. He reached into his pocket and drew out his cell phone, then fumbled with it a moment before he was able to flip it open. He pushed a button and handed it to the nearest student.

 

“It'll be my brother...” he said heavily. “Tell him I...need help. He'll know what's wrong.” He used his remaining strength to force himself into a seated position against the side of his desk. _“Please, Goten, answer your phone,”_ he begged silently.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Piccolo bared his fangs at the unseen wall preventing him from moving deeper into the Lookout. He knew Kami-sama had encountered resistance before, in the form of an attack by a handful of the prior Kami-sama, but this shield was new - or at least, he'd never discovered it before. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Dende's approach.

 

“I have never been able to reach that part of the Lookout, either,” Dende said in response to the angry look on Piccolo's face. “I do not know what lies beyond it.”

 

Piccolo turned away from the barrier and eyed the young god for a moment. “It matters not,” he said. “I will find another way to obtain the answers I seek.”

 

Dende followed him back out into the daylight. “Even if Gohan's situation _has_ been caused by Rou Kaioshin, is it good for us to interfere?” he asked. “Should Kami-sama take such a direct role in the fate of those in the mortal world?”

 

Piccolo did not look at the younger Namekian as he spoke. “Do whatever you feel you must as Kami-sama,” he said. “I am no longer burdened with that responsibility - I am as mortal as the next.”

 

“I'm just wondering if this is further than others could or would go -” Dende began.

 

“**I've given up my life for that boy!**” Piccolo roared. “**I will go as far as I must to see him well again!**”

 

Dende sighed and looked out over the expanse of clouds below the Lookout. “Are you sure there isn't another reason you're so dedicated to this?” he asked gently.

 

Piccolo stiffened suddenly. A sharp twinge in his chest reminded him that Dende was correct, and the youthful god was quickly becoming as perceptive as Kami-sama should be. He pushed his apprehension down once again; now was not the time to be dealing with it. He knew he would have to decide, and soon, what to do about his situation, but his priority now had to be on Gohan. He faced Dende squarely as he spoke. “And what other reason do you think there would be?” he demanded.

 

Dende looked up at him hesitantly. “I...know what happened,” he began, “between you and Gohan.” He paused, uncertain how to word his concerns. “I don't think that Gohan knows what it means for a Namekian to-”

 

Piccolo cut him off sharply. “And I intend to keep it that way!” He turned away from Dende once again. “Gohan's life is difficult enough because of this. Useless information like that will only cause him needless worry.”

 

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Dende asked. “Gohan seems like the type who would want to know, even if you decide-”

 

Piccolo cut him off again. “**I said, it doesn't matter!**” he shouted. “**Mind your own business, and leave me to mine!**”

 

Dende sighed and looked at the tiled ground of the Lookout. “As you wish,” he said. “I wish you the best, Piccolo. I know this is not easy on anyone involved.”

 

Piccolo snorted and stepped up to the edge of the Lookout. “Save your energy for helping Gohan,” he said. “_He's_ the one who needs it.” Before Dende could reply, he launched himself into the sky and soared away from the Lookout.

 

Piccolo wracked his brain as he flew, trying to think of any other place on Earth where he might glean some information about the Kaioshin. After several minutes, he realized there weren't even that many who were directly aware of Kami-sama, let alone any gods above him.

 

Suddenly, he remembered one who might know something - the Turtle Hermit. Muten Roshi's master, Mutaito, had sealed Piccolo Daimao, and Roshi's sister, Uranai Baba, had the ability to travel between worlds. As much as he detested asking any of Goku's friends for help, the Turtle Hermit seemed to be his only option.

 

Piccolo changed course and flew directly to the Kame House. He landed on the sandy edge of the island and glared distastefully at the tiny structure. Several feet away, Marron looked toward him in suprise from the beach towel she was reclining on. “Piccolo-san! What are you doing here?”

 

Piccolo's glare became a scowl. “Where is the Turtle Hermit?” he demanded.

 

Marron blinked. “Uh...inside, I think. That's where he was the last time I saw him.” She leaned toward the house and called out. “Dad! Piccolo-san is here! He's looking for the old timer!”

 

Kuririn poked his head out the door and looked around in surprise. He stepped outside to greet Piccolo. “Piccolo!” he exclaimed. “You're here by yourself? What do you need?”

 

“The Turtle Hermit!” Piccolo snapped. “I wish to speak with him. Send him out here at once!”

 

“O-kaaaay, then,” Kuririn said. He raised his hands in a defensive gesture, clearly recognizing Piccolo's irritated mood. He started to back through the door but stopped when he realized Roshi was standing behind him.

 

“Well, then,” Roshi said by way of greeting, “what can I do for you, Piccolo? It seems you're in something of a hurry.”

 

“Your master, Mutaito, once sealed my predecessor with the Mafuba - I want to know what he knew of the godly realm to be able to create that technique.”

 

Roshi blinked in surprise. “Yes, Master Mutaito certainly invented it and used it successfully against Piccolo Daimao,” he said. “However, I do not know the secret of how he created it - he put himself into isolation to create the technique, and I only learned it from him after he mastered it.”

 

Piccolo bared his fangs in irritation. “Then tell me where I can find your sister,” he said. “I will get the information I need from her instead.”

 

Roshi rubbed the back of his head. “Afraid I can't help you there, either, Piccolo,” he said. “That old crone comes and goes as she pleases, never gives me any warning or says where she's off to when she leaves. Karin might have some idea, but I can't guarantee it.”

 

Piccolo's fists tightened, and he turned away from the house to contain his building frustration. “Then my business here is done,” he said.

 

“Hold on a sec, Piccolo,” Kuririn said. “Is this about the fuss everyone's making over the Saiyans? It's all over the TV - it's about all anyone can talk about.”

 

Piccolo weighed the likelihood of how much Kuririn and the others knew versus how much they needed to know. He decided to err on the side of caution. “This has next to nothing to do with the human prattle,” he said. “With any luck, they will soon forget about their preoccupation and find some other nonsense to worry about.” With that, he blasted into the air and sped away toward the horizon.

 

Kuririn sighed as he watched Piccolo leave. “Why do I have the feeling things just went from annoying to terrible?” he asked.

 

Eighteen stepped up behind Kuririn. “He said his question has 'next to nothing' to do with the media frenzy,” she commented. “That suggests there is some element of overlap.”

 

Kuririn mused on that for a moment. “Well, whatever it is, I hope it's not bad. Piccolo doesn't normally go out of his way for others, especially if there's no danger involved.”

 

“I have suspected since the first news report aired that there is more to this than some old junk turning up,” Roshi said. “That junk shouldn't even exist - the kind of power you kids and the Saiyans were putting out during your battle should have destroyed everything it came in contact with. There are still scars on the landscape today from the battle; it's unlikely that even alien metal or glass would survive.”

 

“So...you're saying there _could_ be something?” Kuririn asked. “I mean, wouldn't someone have needed to _be_ there? Someone more powerful than any of us were at the time?”

 

Roshi folded his hands behind his back and gazed out over the water. “Someone from the godly realm,” he replied. “And Piccolo has figured that out as well. He's worried it's going to affect him...or someone he cares about.”

 

They were silent for a moment in thought. Then, Kuririn broke the silence. “You...don't think _Gohan_ is in trouble, do you?” he asked hesitantly. “I mean, he's the only one Piccolo goes out of his way for, especially among the Saiyans.”

 

“I'm sure if it gets too bad we'll hear about it,” Eighteen said. “There's probably not a lot we could do to help, anyway.”

 

Kuririn started to respond, then stopped short as a flash of light on the horizon caught his eye. “Well, that was quick,” he quipped.

 

“Don't think it's Piccolo,” Roshi commented. “The energy doesn't feel the same.”

 

The light flashed again, this time closer, and they were able to finally make out what it was - sunlight reflecting off the shiny surface of a hover car. The vehicle sped up to the island and Gyumao waved to them as it settled down on the sand.

 

“Hello, hello!” Gyumao called. “I hope I'm not arriving at a bad time!”

 

“Not at all,” Roshi replied. “Today seems to be a visitor day, after all.”

 

Gyumao looked confused for a moment, until Kuririn clarified. “Piccolo was here being weird, but he took off just before you arrived,” he said. “Something about trying to get information about the godly realm.”

 

“Er...the godly realm?” Gyumao asked. He stepped out of his car and shuffled his feet nervously in the sand. “Did...he say what in particular he wanted to know?”

 

“Not directly, he didn't,” Roshi replied. “He asked about Master Mutaito's creation of the Mafuba and where he might find Baba at.” He looked thoughtfully at Gyumao. “Master Mutaito thought Piccolo Daimao was of the demon realm, and he created the Mafuba specifically to seal demons. _You_ wouldn't know, by chance, what Piccolo might be looking for?”

 

“No...no, I don't think so,” Gyumao said. “At least...I hope I don't.” He looked at the ground. “I _really_ hope I don't. I don't want any trouble from Piccolo, of all people.”

 

“It sounds like you've gotten yourself into something of a pickle,” Roshi observed. “Come on inside. We can talk over a drink.”

 

Gyumao followed Roshi, Kuririn and Eighteen into the house; Marron trailed along behind them. As the others settled themselves around the table, Roshi brought over a pitcher of beer and several empty mugs.

 

“Thank you, Muten Roshi,” Gyumao said apologetically. “You're right, as usual...I have ended up in a fix again.” He paused while he filled his mug and took a long drink from it. Then he sighed. “I have always known that my past would catch up with me; that's why I built my castle on Frypan Mountain. That doesn't make it any easier.”

 

“You came to me as an unruly student with little desire to talk about where you came from,” Roshi commented. “But I suspected you were more than you claimed to be. Gyumao is a title, not a name, isn't it?”

 

Gyumao sighed again. “Yes, it is,” he said. “It's my family's hereditary title; I inherited it from my father. I would have passed it on to a son, had I one, but I hoped I would never need to, and I don't want Chichi to ever have to take up the title.”

 

“Wait, so you're like a king?” Kuririn asked. “Not just a wealthy guy?”

 

“The king of the demon realm's Ox clan,” Gyumao said. He looked at the floor with a resigned expression. “Those of the demon realm rarely have business on Earth, but I ventured here frequently out of boredom when I was young. Then...I met my beloved wife, Chichi's mother.” He paused in thought. “I knew I couldn't get away with leaving forever, but my kingdom was stable when I left, and I hoped...anyway, it seems things are falling apart again. I was sent a message recently that there is turmoil in the Ox clan, and I am expected to return and lead them.”

 

“Well, that's not _so_ bad, is it?” Kuririn asked. “I mean, you're a strong guy, right? Can't you just go kick everyone back into place and come back?”

 

Gyumao shook his head. “If only it were so easy,” he replied. “Travel is difficult between Earth and the demon realm, and I have no idea what to expect when I get there. Someone may have gotten as strong as me, or stronger, since I left.”

 

“So, what happens if you just don't go back?” Eighteen asked. She crossed her arms and frowned. “Just tell them to piss off and sort out their own problems.”

 

“That's why I came here,” Gyumao said. “I was hoping Muten Roshi would have some idea of a sanctuary I can use for temporary shelter, if not for me, then for Chichi and her family. If I don't return to the demon realm...the demon realm will send emissaries to find me and bring back me or my heir by force.”

 

Kuririn frowned. “As if Goku and Chichi don't have enough problems right now,” he muttered. “Well, at least there're no demons Goku can't handle.”

 

Gyumao looked up in surprise. “What do you mean? What problems do Goku and Chichi have?”

 

“I take it you haven't seen a television in a while,” Eighteen said. “The news media can't shut up about Saiyans lately.” She nodded to where Marron was reclining in front of the television, watching the newscast with half-interest.

 

“They're mostly talking about Vegeta right now, I guess,” Marron said. “And something about East Capitol? I don't know.”

 

“Vegeta and Nappa destroyed East Capitol when they first came to Earth,” Kuririn said. “How the rest of the world figured that out is what I'm wondering.”

 

“How they're figuring _any_ of this out, is what _I'm_ wondering,” Eighteen echoed. She nodded toward the TV screen.

 

The group fell silent for a minute to watch the reporter Eighteen was indicating. The woman spoke with rapid excitement as she read from several sheets of paper in front of her.

 

“...have received evidence Capsule Corp president Bulma Briefs's reclusive husband is one of the aliens responsible for the destruction of East Capitol,” the reporter said. The screen displayed side-by-side photos of Vegeta and Nappa standing near a crater in East Capitol and Vegeta without armor leaning against a tree, glaring at something in the distance. “Capsule Corp representatives couldn't be reached for comment,” she continued, “but we are continuing to investigate these allegations as information comes in.”

 

“I don't get it,” Kuririn said. He folded his arms and gave the television a skeptical look. “There's no way anything even in the vicinity of those two survived, and this doesn't look like a still frame from live video of any sort. Even if it was, you'd have thought it'd have come out back then, not all this time later.”

 

“Doctor Gero was able to extract DNA from all of you with robots that looked like bugs,” Eighteen said. “Perhaps these photos were taken the same way.”

 

“But Gero's dead, right? And his lab gone? And Goku took care of the rest of the Red Ribbon Army when he was a kid...” Kuririn began.

 

“And no one knew about Cell until it was too late – not even me or Seventeen,” Eighteen finished.

 

“You're right,” Kuririn sighed. He leaned back with his hands folded behind his head. “First Piccolo thinks there's interference from the godly realm, then there's going to be an invasion from the demon realm, and now the Red Ribbon Army might be resurfacing again. What a pain in the butt.”

 

“Well, I don't know about the demon realm,” Gyumao began. “I can always go back and save everyone the trouble. Chichi and Gohan and even little Pan-chan are all grown now.”

 

Kuririn sat up and gave Gyumao a friendly slap on the back. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “If anyone comes here looking for you, we'll just kick their ass. Dabura was the worst they had, right? And he's been taken care of.”

 

“I'd like to think it was that easy...” Gyumao began doubtfully.

 

“I have no doubt about it!” Kuririn said. He flashed a quick, confident victory sign. “If nothing else, it'll be a good work out to make sure we stay in shape!”

 


	13. Chapter 13

Bulma looked up as Trunks, Goten, Pan and Bra walked into the room. “Oh, good timing, kids!” she said. “I was just saying-” Her voice cut off short as she noticed Goten leaning heavily on Trunks and Bra. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “What's happened?”

 

“Long story,” Trunks said. “Goten's earned himself some cracked ribs, is all.”

 

“Oh, I told you kids not to get yourselves into trouble!” Bulma said. “Why didn't you let your father handle it?”

 

“Actually, Goten picked a fight with Grandpa,” Pan spoke up. “That other Saiyan never set a hand on us.”

 

Bulma pursed her lips. “Well, I'll get some bandages to at least wrap those ribs with until we can do something about it,” she said. “In the meantime, a couple of your friends are here, Bra. They stopped by just a few minutes ago looking for you.” She gestured toward the sofa where two girls were sitting, watching them with interest.

 

Bra's eyes widened. “Oh, Ylva! Connor!” she said. “I totally forgot I asked you two to come over today! I'm so sorry!” She hurried over and sat down in the chair across from them, and the other three followed. Goten perched himself carefully on the arm of Bra's chair, and Pan and Trunks each claimed other chairs.

 

The two girls on the sofa looked the four over curiously. “Is this a bad time?” one of them asked. She tilted her head to the side and brushed her thick, red bangs out of her eyes. “We can always come back later.”

 

“It's okay, Ylva. It's probably better now,” Bra said. She pinched the arch of her nose as she thought. “Daddy's not back yet, and I have a feeling he's not going to be in that good of a mood when he _does_ get back. I'd just as soon not deal with him right away...” She frowned in thought.

 

“Why don't we go hang out somewhere?” Connor asked. “We could always hit the mall or something.”

 

“Actually, that sounds like a great idea,” Trunks said. He stood and helped Pan to her feet. “That is, if you don't mind us tagging along, Bra. There was a store I wanted to stop at today anyway.”

 

“It's fine with me,” Bra said. She turned to Goten. “Goten-”

 

“Eh, your mom will have a fit if I go anywhere before my ribs are taped up,” he said. He chuckled ruefully, then winced and put his hand to his side. “It's what I get for being careless. You go on ahead; if I don't catch up later, I'll be here. There's nowhere else I'm going for a while.”

 

“All right,” Bra said. She leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead, then stood up to join her brother and Pan. “We'll see you later, then.”

 

Trunks popped a capsule out of his pocket and tossed it onto the driveway as they walked outside. It burst open to reveal a sporty capsule car. “It'll be tight,” he said, “but I think the five of us can manage in it - the mall's not far.” He climbed into the driver's seat, and Pan hopped into the passenger seat next to him. Bra and her friends climbed into the back, and Trunks took off swiftly, sending all of their hair whipping around their heads as they sped through town. When they reached the mall, the five of them piled out and brushed their hair out of their faces while Trunks put the capsule car away.

 

The air-conditioned interior of the mall provided welcome relief from the intense sun outside. The five of them strolled casually toward the center of the mall; Bra and her friends were so busy chatting about the latest gossip they didn't realize they'd lost Trunks and Pan until they found a table in the food court to sit at.

 

Bra sighed and sat down. “Who knows where they disappeared to?” she complained out loud. “We might as well claim a table and wait for them; I'm sure they'll catch up.”

 

Ylva and Connor pulled up chairs alongside her. They glanced around for any sign of Trunks and Pan; when it was clear the two were nowhere in sight, Ylva took the opportunity to strike up a new conversation.

 

“So, Bra,” Ylva began. “I don't want to sound too nosy, but...Pan said something earlier about a Saiyan when your mom asked about Goten's injuries. Isn't that what those experts were talking about on TV recently? I know your company is all up on technology, but are you also involved with this alien research?”

 

“And speaking of Goten,” Connor continued, “you looked awfully cozy with him. Is there something going on there we should know about? Isn't he, like, the same age as your brother?”

 

Ylva sighed and looked sideways at her. "Always the important questions first, right, Connor?" she asked.

 

Connor stuck out her tongue. "It **is** an important question," she said. "If Bra's off the market, that means the guys will have to quit swooning over her and look for other options."

 

Ylva rolled her eyes. "Bra's _been_ off the market," she said. "Have you met a guy yet who could get past her dad?" She giggled suddenly. "Remember that biker jerk, Marten, from a couple years ago?"

 

Bra turned red suddenly. "He just decided to be an ass at the wrong time," she said. "My dad doesn't bend flagpoles around _every_ man I meet."

 

Connor laughed. "Maybe not, but it was great watching all of Marten's tough-guy buddies take off on their bikes and leave him whimpering there until the fire department was able to pry him out," she said. She turned back to Bra. "So?"

 

"Yeah, yeah," Bra replied nonchalantly. "He and I are...seeing each other."

  
Connor squealed in delight. "Lucky!" she said. "And your dad's totally okay with it? I mean, even with how much older he is?"

 

Bra shrugged. "He's not thrilled," she said truthfully, "but Goten is Trunks's best friend, and he's always around. My family's known him for his whole life, so they know he's not just some creep. And it's not like he's after the corporation's money or anything."

 

Before either of the other two girls could reply, Trunks and Pan walked up to the table. Bra glanced up at them skeptically. "And where did you two disappear to so suddenly?" she asked. "We only turned around for a second and you were gone."

 

Pan glanced sideways at Trunks, who nodded slightly and nudged her toward the other girls. "Go ahead," he said. "They'll see it before long anyway."

 

Pan smiled and held up her hand; a shining ring, encrusted on the top with diamonds, sparkled on her third finger. "Trunks bought me an engagement ring today," she said, matter-of-factly.

 

Bra sighed, even as the other two girls cried out in surprise.

 

"Wha-at?" Connor asked. "Bra, you didn't tell us about this! This is _news_! The world's most eligible bachelor is getting married?"

 

Bra glared at her brother. "I didn't say anything about it, because _he_ didn't say anything about it. I take it you also haven't told Mama and Daddy you were planning to do this?"

 

Trunks shrugged. "I figured they would have guessed," he said. "The ring just makes it more official, is all."

 

"More official indeed," Bra replied. "I know what you're up to - you're getting back at Goten for the prank he pulled earlier on you. You _know_ he won't be able to stand it, and he'll want to run out and get a ring for _my_ hand." She waved her fingers in her brother's face to illustrate the point.

 

"Wait, what?" Ylva asked. "Does that mean that you're also planning to get married, Bra? Isn't it a little sudden?"

 

"Ooooh!" Connor squirmed in her seat. "I need details! Hang on, I'm going to go get a soda - and then I want the full scoop!" She quickly leaped up from her chair and dashed toward a nearby food stand.

 

Trunks and Pan settled themselves in chairs across from Bra and her friends. "It's actually not that big of a deal," Trunks said. "I've never understood what the fuss in the media was about anyway - it's not like I've been out to intentionally create a stir with whom I date."

 

"No, but whenever you're reported to be single, it gives girls something to be all gaga about," Ylva pointed out. "Handsome, rich, smart, strong...what girl _wouldn't_ be?" She sighed. "Not that I would know about that drama personally, but being surrounded by it daily gets old."

 

"Eh?" Bra asked. She arched an eyebrow mischievously. "You mean you don't look for those qualities in a girl?"

 

Ylva smiled. "I settle for nice tits and ass on someone who's not an airhead," she replied.

 

Trunks snorted. "Good luck with that," he said. Then he flinched and glanced at Pan and Bra, who had him fixed with narrow-eyed stares. "Eh heh...well, present company is all spoken for, right?" he asked. He nervously scratched the back of his head.

 

Ylva laughed. "Good save!"

 

Trunks's reply was cut off when Connor suddenly flopped down in a chair next to Ylva. She set her soda down heavily in front of her, then tossed a newspaper onto the table. "It looks like we weren't the only ones curious about the Saiyan thing," she said, "but the kind of things some reporters make up these days...you'd think they'd actually _ask_ famous people before making up stuff about them."

 

The others glanced down at the newspaper and saw a bold headline proclaiming, "Capsule Corp President Married to Killer Alien." A substantial article followed it, including a large, front-page photo of a younger Vegeta in armor. Trunks quickly grabbed the paper and flipped through it; he was shocked to see additional photos that pointed to their Saiyan heritage, including a snapshot of Vegeta and an unfamiliar Saiyan standing in what seemed to be East Capitol prior to its destruction. He frowned and handed the paper to Bra and Pan.

 

The two girls looked over the article in surprise. "Where did they get these photos?" Bra wondered out loud. "It's unimaginable they could have come from Capsule Corp - Daddy doesn't normally like photos of himself being spread around."

 

Trunks shook his head. "This one taken in East Capitol was before he and Mom ever met - or before he met anyone else here, by the looks of it; this crater in the street must be where his space pod landed." He folded the paper and stuffed it into an inside pocket on his jacket. "We'll take it back home; Mom and Dad should probably see this."

 

"Wait a minute," Ylva said suddenly. "Then that _is_ your dad in the photo?"

 

Bra nodded reluctantly. "Though much younger," she said. "None of those photos are particularly recent...Daddy hasn't worn his armor in ages, for one thing."

 

"Then...you're Saiyan too, aren't you?" Connor asked.

 

"Half-Saiyan," Bra replied. "Trunks and I both are. Our mom is fully human."

 

"Man!" Connor exclaimed. She turned to look at Pan. "Pan, did you know? Does Goten know?"

 

Pan smiled ruefully and scratched the back of her head. "Yeah...I know," she said. "Goten's half-Saiyan too, and I'm quarter-Saiyan."

 

"Oooh, no one ever tells me anything!" Connor griped. She picked up her soda and sucked strongly on the straw in irritation for a moment, before returning it to the table.

 

Ylva stretched her arms behind her and yawned. "What's it matter?" she asked. "The media's hyping over nothing again. The world's still here, and obviously Saiyans are normal people, just like everyone else."

 

"Well...I wouldn't say _normal_," Bra said. "Saiyans tend to be stronger than most Earthlings, which is why none of us participate in the Tenkaichi Budokai anymore. But it's not the big deal that reporters are making it out to be." She started to continue, but was cut off when Trunks put his hand out to silence her.

 

"Speaking of whom," he said, "it seems like this would be a good time to take the discussion elsewhere." He nodded toward a small group of individuals carrying cameras and notebooks, who were hurrying toward their table.

 

One of the men in the cluster of reporters called out to them as they stood up to leave. "Please, wait just a moment!" he called. "You're the Briefs children, aren't you? We'd like to get a comment on your family's connection to the Saiyans."

 

"We have no comment," Trunks said bluntly. "And we'd prefer that you leave our family and friends alone; Capsule Corp has a media contact specifically for media inquiries." He nodded to the girls, who quickly moved behind him toward the door.

 

A second reporter hurriedly held out a small, rectangular card. "Can we leave contact information with you, in case you change your mind?"

 

Trunks waved him off. "Any press releases will be sent out to all news agencies at the same time," he said, a bit more sharply than was necessary. "If you want to hear from us, I suggest you go back to your offices and watch your inboxes." He quickly moved between the girls and the reporters and herded the girls outside.

 

Pan and Bra glanced around quickly as they stepped through the door to the mall. Trunks noticed they seemed to have the same thing on their mind as he did.

 

"This way," he said. He nodded to the side. "There's a back alley over here. We can lose them and take off from there without anyone seeing us."

 

Trunks and the girls sprinted down the sidewalk and ducked into the alley. Empty shipping crates stood alongside tall dumpsters and made a convenient screen to the people and traffic milling in the parking lot.

 

Ylva looked around in confusion. "But...this is a dead-end alley..." she began. "We'll have to go back out the way we came in."

 

Trunks shook his head. He watched and listened carefully for a moment but didn't hear any indication the reporters had seen where they'd gone. "Looks like we're clear," he said. "We'll go high enough no one can see us and come down by the house - no one should be milling around there who hasn't seen it before."

 

Pan and Bra nodded. They each took one of the other girls around the waist and lifted them up. "Hold on," Bra said. "We're getting out of here."

 

"What-" Connor began. Before she could finish her sentence, however, Bra and Pan blasted into the air carrying the girls, with Trunks right behind them. It only took them seconds to make it the short distance to Capsule Corp, where they dropped down from directly above the Briefs' home.

 

Bulma was waiting for them on the front step when they landed. She frowned and folded her arms across her chest. "Goten said he thought you were on your way back," she said. She looked pointedly at Trunks and Bra. "I was watching for the car; what have I said about flying around town like that?" She eyed up Ylva and Connor, who were still gaping in surprise, as Bra and Pan set them carefully on the ground. "And hauling your friends around with you no less."

 

"Sorry, Mama," Bra said apologetically. "There were these reporters..."

 

"Reporters?" Bulma asked sharply.

 

"We ditched them before we took to the air," Trunks interjected quickly. He withdrew the folded newspaper from his jacket and handed it to Bulma. "They were trying to corner us for comments - probably in relation to this."

 

Bulma unfolded the newspaper and frowned at the front page, then sighed. "If it's not one thing, it's another," she said. "I guess I'm going to have to keep the television on all the time now to watch for updates." She stepped aside and motioned for them to go in. "You kids go on and settle in; your father is not home yet, but he's not going to be happy about this latest development when he **does** get home. You can use the entertainment room to hang out with your friends. There are ice packs in the freezer, and you can have whatever food you find in the fridge."

 


	14. Chapter 14

Vegeta and Tullece landed amid fallen timbers and dense brush that enveloped Tullece's wrecked spacecraft. Tullece nodded toward the open hatch. The door was hanging ajar, half-fallen from its hinges, and vines were creeping around the frame.

 

“It was wrecked when the Shinseiju was destroyed,” he said. “I couldn't make any attempt to move it or repair it without drawing attention back here, and I was in no condition to battle Kakarotto again. By the time I'd healed and learned how to suppress my ki, it was beyond salvaging.”

 

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and examined the ship critically. “This is one of the older model ships from Freeza's fleet,” he said. “How did it come into your hands?”

 

“It wandered into my territory on a purging mission one day,” Tullece replied. “I...relieved the captain of his duties, as well as most of the crew. A couple of disloyal crew members chose to join the Tullece Crusher Corps rather than suffer the same fate as their comrades.” He frowned as he looked over the ship himself. “This was, sadly, one of my easiest acquisitions. I simply had to disable the tracking sensors and the rest of the fleet assumed it had been destroyed.”

 

Vegeta snorted. “And, of course, no one bothered to check on any pitiful weaklings who would have been sent to a frontier planet,” he said. “If they were noted to be dead, there would be no reason to follow up.” He looked toward the back of the spaceship. “Is your original space capsule in the cargo bay, then?”

 

Tullece shook his head. “No,” he said. He motioned for Vegeta to follow him inside and stepped through the broken doorway. “I didn't want to risk Freeza being able to trace me through it,” he continued. “I pulled the computer from it long ago, mainly so I'd have it if I ever needed to prove my heritage for anything, and I disposed of the rest of the capsule.” He led the way through humid, encrusted corridors to the captain's quarters. The door to the captain's room was also hanging open, and inside, sunlight filtered down through a hole in the roof.

 

Tullece noticed Vegeta eying the damage. “Yeah, it went to hell quickly after it was wrecked in my battle with Kakarotto,” he said. He walked to a far cabinet and pulled open a narrow drawer. He drew out a smooth, white box and opened the lid to reveal a computer panel with cables and wires trailing off it. “It worked the last time this spacecraft had power,” he said. “I can't guarantee anything after all these years.”

 

“We'll take it back to Capsule Corp,” Vegeta replied. “There is certainly equipment there that will make it work.” He gestured toward the gaping hole in the ceiling and blasted off into the sky; Tullece was right behind him.

 

The two of them flew in silence until they were over Capsule Corp property. As they approached, Vegeta noticed a group of vehicles with news station badging parked on the street outside the Capsule Corp gates.

 

“Nosy Earthling pests,” Vegeta muttered. He turned his head to look at Tullece. “We're not landing here; we'll circle around back and land in the center of our property. I won't be hassled by the moronic Earthlings hovering in the street.”

 

Tullece nodded and followed Vegeta as he arced around the compound and landed in a quiet part of the yard. Vegeta led him to the house and motioned for him to follow inside.

 

Bulma looked up at the two of them as they walked into the living room, but Vegeta spoke before she could get a word out in greeting. “Do something about those pests who are herding around the gate,” he snapped. “I won't have them harassing my family.”

 

Bulma sighed and held out the newspaper Trunks had brought back. “It's too late for that,” she said. “The kids went to the mall and tried to spend time with their friends, but they were approached by reporters - probably in relation to this.” She watched Vegeta's expression carefully as he took the paper from her and opened it. “Trunks brought that back with them - it's apparently on the news stands today.”

 

Vegeta's eyebrow twitched in annoyance as he scowled at the front page. His dark expression deepened as he skimmed the article and saw the additional photos. “Who took these photos?” he demanded. “These shouldn't exist! Particularly this one from East Capitol - Nappa destroyed that city mere moments after we landed. There was nothing but a burned crater left behind!”

 

“I've already made some phone calls about it,” Bulma replied. “I'm waiting to hear back from the editors of that paper, as well as some media advisors I know. We'll figure out where the photos came from, as well as where they're getting their information.”

 

“What nuisances,” Vegeta replied. “I'm going to examine this computer from Tullece's ship,” he said. “See that I am not disturbed in the meantime.”

 

“Vegeta, I could just -” Bulma began.

 

Vegeta waved her off. “You're better at dealing with the Earthlings,” he said. “I can handle this.”

 

Bulma sat back in her chair. “All right,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

 

Vegeta gave her a short nod and gestured for Tullece to follow him. The two of them walked through the corridors toward Bulma's computer lab. As they passed the entertainment room, Vegeta paused and glanced through the open door.

 

“Hey, Dad,” Trunks called. He didn't look up from the television he and the others were watching.

 

“Your mother said you kids were harassed by reporters today,” Vegeta commented, without elaborating.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Trunks replied. “We ditched them. Mom showed you the newspaper we brought back?”

 

Vegeta frowned and crossed his arms. “She did. I suppose your friends saw it as well?” He eyed Ylva and Connor speculatively for a moment before turning his gaze back to Trunks.

 

“Connor's the one who found it,” Bra spoke up. “It's no big deal; they're cool with us being Saiyan.”

 

“I have never taught you kids to be ashamed of your Saiyan heritage,” Vegeta said. “However, the name comes with a certain amount of baggage no matter where we go - it was only a matter of time before Earthlings started to go on about it.”

 

“Yeah, well, it's not like we're not used to it,” Trunks replied. “The Capsule Corp name comes with its own baggage, too. At least Grandpa's inventions were sometimes strange enough people still are a bit leery of coming around the property.”

 

“Heh,” Vegeta's lip twitched into a slight smirk. “You haven't looked outside since you got back. Good luck getting out through the front gate.”

 

Trunks palmed his face. “Dammit, those assholes...” he said. “I told them to back the fuck off, not follow us back to Capsule Corp and camp our front door.” He looked up at Vegeta. “You want me to go get rid of them?”

  
  
“Your mother is dealing with it,” Vegeta said. “The less you kids are seen by outsiders the better, at least for the time being. We need things to...cool down...for us, before you start tangling with strangers very much.”

  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Trunks conceded. “Good thing we're well-stocked for a while.”

  
  
“So, Ylva and Connor can stay the night, right?” Bra asked. “At least until we know they can get home without being jumped all over by paparazzi...”

 

“It's fine,” Vegeta agreed. “Your mother hasn't dismissed any of her staff, to my knowledge. Just set up a guest house for them.”

 

“Yay! Thanks, Daddy!” Bra turned back to her friends. “Mama's got a new capsule house design she's testing out - it's not on the market yet. It'll be perfect for you guys!”

 

While Bra turned to make plans with Ylva and Connor, Trunks turned his attention back to Vegeta. “I take it _he's_ going to be staying here, too?” he asked. He inclined his head to nod toward Tullece.

 

“For now,” Vegeta replied thinly. “He and I still have some information to sort out from the computer of his original pod. We'll be in your mother's lab examining it for the time being.”

 

“Well, _we're_ not going anywhere,” Trunks said. He sighed and leaned back to watch the TV again. “Let me know if you need any help.”  
  
Vegeta and Tullece started to move forward again but stopped short as Goten suddenly piped up. “Oh, and find something else to wear, would you, Tullece?” he asked. “You look too much like my dad in that gi, and it's starting to creep me out.”

 

Tullece snorted. “First chance I get,” he replied. “Unfortunately, my armor is still at Kakarotto's house. It may be a while before I get it back.”

 

“Don't worry about it,” Vegeta interrupted. “We have plenty of training uniforms here.” He nodded toward the end of the hall. “Let's get moving before any more of this day is wasted.”

 

* * *

 

Vegeta frowned as he listened to the static-filled recording play back for the third time. He ground his teeth as the familiar voice spoke from the computer. _ “Your name is Tullece; you are a warrior of the Saiyan race, the most powerful race in the universe. You are third class by birth and parentage. Your mother lies in the birthing chamber and cannot attend to you; your father is away on a mission. As your father's confidant, I am recording this and sending you to your fate – gods be willing that it is a better one than would await you here. May your inborn memories of your people and the guidance of fate allow you a successful life until such time as you meet your family again.” _

 

Tullece looked quizzically at Vegeta's expression as he listened to the recording. He didn't understand the frustration; the recording was certainly vague and cryptic, but since he'd been sent to a pirate haven, he assumed it was to keep them from discovering his purpose until it was too late. He'd had virtually no problem conquering the planet as a child.

 

“Vegeta-sama?” Tullece asked. “Is there a problem?”

 

Vegeta unclenched his jaw briefly to respond. “Do you have any idea whose voice this is?” he demanded.

 

Tullece shook his head. “There was no information about the speaker other than what you just heard there,” he said. “Nor do I know who my parents were; I only have the vaguest sense of what they were like. The memories of my birth were muddled; I only saw my mother briefly. I have had dreams of parents and brothers I never met – but like everything I know of Planet Vegeta, they are obscured by the fog of time.”

 

“It makes sense,” Vegeta muttered, almost to himself. “Our residual memories usually do not include the memory of sound.” He turned his full attention back to Tullece. “The voice on that recording is _my_ father's voice – _my_ father, the King of Vegeta!” He balled his hands into fists. “This makes no sense – why would he have _anything_ to do with a third-class family? Why would he give special attention to a third-class child?”

 

He slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. He understood that he'd only been a child when Freeza had taken him from his father, but he thought he'd known what his father was like by then; he'd spent all of his time until that point with him. The very notion that a third-class warrior had his father as a confidant was preposterous. However, he had no idea why his father would lie, anonymously or otherwise, on a computer in an infant's space pod.

 

Tullece's mind was also reeling with dozens of unspoken questions. Foremost among them was the question of who he really was – was he truly _ just _ the son of a third-class warrior, if his father had been that close to the king?

 

Vegeta scowled as the recording continued to play. “I _ will _ get to the bottom of this,” he seethed.

 


	15. Chapter 15

"Beautiful...simply beautiful." Brown hair and eyes were reflected in the computer screen as the journalist watched a series of photographs open. He smiled to himself as he zoomed in on detail in one of the photos.

 

"Oh, and what have we here?"

 

He glanced over his shoulder at the woman who walked up behind him. She leaned on the back of his chair to look more closely at the computer screen, and bouncy green curls spilled over her shoulder.

 

"What we have is the front page of the Society pages," he replied smugly. "My nose for news never fails me - and that trip to the mall you said would be a waste of my time turned up gold - and diamonds."

 

The woman's brow wrinkled. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "Sure, these are the Capsule Corp brats...but everyone's taking pictures of them. You don't honestly think some random photos of them at the mall are going to trump the articles about their parents, do you?"

 

"Lindi, Lindi, Lindi," the man said with a sigh. "This is why you'll always be a day late and a dollar short." He clicked a button on his keyboard a few times to zoom in on Pan's hand. "Take a closer look at these 'random photos' I took."

 

Lindi's jaw dropped. "Is...that an engagement ring?" she asked.

 

"Diamond," he confirmed. "Purchased at the most expensive jeweler in the mall." He minimized several of the photos to pull up a different one. "I was standing on the balcony above the plaza when I noticed the two of them walk in and look at the ring displays," he said. "These shots aren't the greatest, because of shadows in the store, but they're clear enough for proof if I need it." He clicked quickly through a series of photos of Trunks and Pan looking at various rings then discussing and purchasing one in particular from the jeweler.

 

"So, Nag-chan, who's the girl?" Lindi asked. "She looks familiar...but I don't recall ever running photos of her before. You know your readers are going to want the full scoop, not just a few teaser pics."

 

"I'm working on it," he replied. "I couldn't get close enough to hear what they were saying; just as I was about to move closer, they were mobbed by some other reporters and took off. I don't think she's a celebrity; I'm going to do some searching and see if she's someone who went to school with him or something."

 

Lindi was still looking thoughtfully at the photos on the screen. "I'm not sure," she said doubtfully. "I have seen these other two girls around the Capsule Corp girl before - they seem to be friends from school. I wonder..."

 

Nagendra looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. "Wonder what?" he asked.

 

Lindi shook her head. "Print me out one of those photos with her in it," she said. "I may have a couple leads...but it will take some digging."

 

Nagendra sighed and clicked the print command. A small printer next to his computer whirred quietly and quickly printed out a copy of the photo. "Make sure my name stays with that photo," he said pointedly.

 

Lindi smiled and waved off his concern. "I know, don't worry about it, Nag-chan," she said. "If my hunch is right, this might pay off for both of us." She picked up the photo from the printer and sauntered away in the direction of her own desk.

 

It was a little more than an hour later when Lindi returned. She walked up to Nagendra's desk and crossed her arms on top of the monitor of his computer. She extended the first two fingers of one of her hands, and Nagendra saw a white piece of paper grasped between them.

 

"Tell me, Nag-chan, how much is the name of your mystery girl worth to you?"

 

Nagendra looked up from his screen; annoyance and frustration were both evident on his face. "That depends on how accurate your information is," he said.

 

"One hundred percent," she replied. "I have both a well-sourced informant and visual confirmation through another recent photo of her."

 

Nagendra sat back and folded his arms. "All right," he said, "I'll bite. What's your asking price?"

 

"Any of the photos you took that you don't use for your own article," Lindi said. "It turns out they'd be beneficial to the story I'm researching."

 

"The story you're researching?" he frowned and gazed at the photos on his screen for a moment. "You were working on the Saiyan origins angle, I thought...the Saiyans who were reported to already be here via the communicator that was found." He suddenly sat upright. "Don't tell me this girl is related to them!"

 

Lindi closed her eyes and smirked. "If my leads pan out, she's a direct descendant," she said.

 

Nagendra blinked in surprise. He sat motionless for a moment, then held out his hand. "Okay, you've got yourself a deal - and a set of photographs. What have you got on her?"

 

Lindi turned the paper in her fingers around to reveal a photograph of Pan at a previous Budokai. "Son Pan," she said. "She's the daughter of a gentleman by the name of Son Gohan. Her father's name keeps coming up in my own research; she looks familiar, because she looks like her paternal grandfather, Son Goku."

 

"Son Goku," Nagendra said thoughtfully. "You mentioned him before - that some of your informants suspect he's Saiyan."

 

Lindi nodded. "And it gets better," she said. "She's not a well-known celebrity, because her father is fairly reclusive; however, she's mildly well-known in the Tenkaichi Budokai circuit. Her maternal grandfather is Mister Satan."

 

Nagendra gaped. "Mister Satan? The World Champion? _That_ Mister Satan?"

 

"The one and only," Lindi replied. "Apparently, his grand-daughter is no slouch, either. When I made the connection to Mister Satan, I called up Belinda-san, who's working on the upcoming Tenkaichi Budokai series. It seems Pan-chan here has fought in the Tenkaichi Budokai - at four years old."

 

"What, four?" he asked in surprise. "But there hasn't been a children's division in ages - did he make special arrangements to get her through the qualifying rounds?"

 

Lindi was already shaking her head. "Belinda-san sent me the video from the 28th Budokai, which is the one she competed in when she was four." She withdrew a small storage device and two more photos. "These two are stills from the video," she said. "The first is her victory over Mo Kekko, who lost to Mr. Buu in the 27th Budokai. Apparently she won rather quickly over him." She handed the photo to Nagendra. "And this one was an unofficial victory; that Budokai was canceled after a number of competitors dropped out suddenly. However, some of the remaining competitors apparently fought for enjoyment after the cancellation."

 

Nagendra was still gaping at the first photo when Lindi handed him the second one. His expression abruptly switched from shock to an amalgamation of surprise and confusion. "This...is..."

 

"Her current fiancé," Lindi finished for him. "Young Mr. Trunks was 18 years old when that photo was taken; the young man on the ground is her uncle, Son Goten, who it seems is his best friend."

 

Nagendra pinched the bridge of his nose. "Holy shit," he said in amazement. "We really did stumble onto something here, didn't we? If he's 14 years her elder...it _has_ to be because of her Saiyan heritage that he's marrying her, doesn't it?"

 

"I'm still looking into connections," Lindi replied. "But they're almost certainly power-brokering. Can it be coincidence that one Saiyan family is married into Capsule Corp, who are considered the leaders in knowledge and technology, while another is married into Mr. Satan's family, who are considered the leaders in fighting and martial arts?"

 

"And with Trunks marrying this girl, Pan, the two families become linked together," Nagendra said. He folded his hands under his chin and leaned forward, with his elbows resting on his desk. "Fascinating."

 

"Very," Lindi replied. She set the small device on Nagendra's desk. "Go ahead and download the video for your research - I have a copy on my computer already. I need to be getting back to my own work. Send over the photos you're not going to use when you're done with your article - I will likely be a while on mine yet. A lot of what I have is speculation, so I have to wait for a few more of my leads to turn into hard evidence."


	16. Chapter 16

Goten groaned and reached across Bra to the cell phone on the night stand. It jangled brightly again as he picked it up, and Bra opened one eye to watch Goten flip it open.

 

“Dammit, who would be calling me now-” Goten began to grumble. His eyes widened, however, as they focused on the caller ID, and he sat upright as he pushed the button to receive the call. “Gohan?” he asked.

 

Goten felt a sudden weight plummet into his stomach when an unfamiliar young woman's voice replied back. “I'm one of Son-san's students,” she said. “He said to call you for help, that you'd know what's wrong with him.”

 

Goten was already on his feet and pulling on a pair of workout pants as she spoke. “Is he still in the classroom?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” the young woman said. Her voice wavered slightly. “Is...there anything we should do for him?” she asked. “He asked for ice; one of us went to the nurse for ice already.”

 

“That's fine,” Goten said hurriedly. He waved to Bra, who had also quickly dressed, to go ahead of him out the door. “The ice will help for the moment; just don't try to move him and don't crowd him; we'll be right there.”

 

He clicked the phone shut as he stepped into the hallway. The hall light was on, and ahead of him, Bra was speaking rapidly to her father. Vegeta looked up sharply at him.

 

“Gohan's in trouble,” Goten said in reply to the unasked question. “He was overcome by his fever at work; we need to get him out of there before any of his students get hurt or they try to take him to a regular doctor.”

 

Vegeta cursed under his breath. “How was he idiot enough to try to work at a time like this?” he muttered. Then he turned his attention back to Goten. “You're not going to be able to carry him anywhere with those ribs in the condition they're in,” he said. He gestured toward the bindings on Goten's chest.

 

“Vegeta-san, it's nothing,” Goten began. “It doesn't hurt nearly so much as earlier-”

 

Vegeta cut him off. “You can tag along to run crowd control,” he shot back. “I'll carry Gohan.” Vegeta then turned his attention to Bra. “Bra, go find your mother; the two of you can get a bed ready for him where we can keep an eye on his condition.”

 

Bra nodded, and Goten and Vegeta quickly left the building and blasted off at top speed in the direction of Satan City. They locked onto Gohan's ki signature and quickly found the open window of his classroom.

 

Gohan was still seated on the floor near his desk when they entered. He had a large ice pack pressed to his forehead, and a young woman in a white uniform was trying to undo the collar of his shirt despite his protests. The students hovered nervously around them.

 

Gohan's eyes suddenly flickered to the two at the window. “Thank goodness!” he exclaimed softly. He sat forward and tried to climb to his feet, only to topple forward. He caught himself with his free hand just before his face hit the floor.

 

“Son-san!” the nurse exclaimed. “Are you all right? You shouldn't try to get up.”

 

Vegeta scowled. “You shouldn't even _be_ here,” he told Gohan. He strode purposefully toward Gohan. “Now I have to carry your stupid ass home to prevent _more_ trouble.”

 

Goten also hurried forward. “Please, step back,” he asked the students. “Gohan needs room to breathe; he can't be crowded right now.” He reached down to help the nurse attending Gohan to her feet. “Miss-” he began.

 

“Out of the way, Woman,” Vegeta demanded. He grabbed Gohan by the front of the shirt and hefted him up out of the nurse's reach, then he slung the half-Saiyan over his shoulder.

 

Gohan sighed at Vegeta's brusque attitude. “Vegeta-san,” he muttered, his voice obscured by the back of Vegeta's shirt, “you could have let Goten-”

 

Vegeta quickly cut him off. “Your brother managed to land himself cracked ribs today,” he said sharply. “You're just lucky that he is staying with us.” He motioned sharply for Goten to head back out the window.

 

The bewildered nurse stood hesitantly. “Wait!” she called. “You can't just carry him like that – he has a terrible fever!” She took a step forward. “He needs medical attention!”

 

“It's okay, it's okay,” Goten said hurriedly, before Vegeta could lose his patience with the woman. “We're taking him to get help. I'm sure it won't be long before he's well again.” He bowed shortly to the nurse and students. “Please, excuse us.” He turned and hurried after Vegeta.

 

* * *

 

Bulma met Vegeta, Goten and Gohan in the front hall as they entered the main house at Capsule Corp. She quickly looked over Gohan and pointed down the hall. “This way,” she said. “Bra and I made a bed in the medical wing ready for him. I've also turned up the air conditioning back there, since no one else is using it right now.”

 

The three of them hurried back with Gohan to the sterile white corridor. Bulma pushed a button next to a blank, white door and the door slid open to reveal a clean but cozy room. She nodded toward the bed. “Lay him down there; I have ice packs under the sheet. They won't last long, even with the A/C on, but they'll help bring his temperature down in the short term.”

 

Gohan gasped at the sudden cold as his back made contact with the covered ice packs, and he arched away from the bed briefly. However, he quickly lost the energy to sit up, and he settled back gingerly against the bed again. After a moment, he closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. “That's...better, I think,” he began.

 

“It'll have to do for now,” Vegeta said. “We'll call that wife of yours and let her know what happened.”

 

“Vegeta, I don't-” Gohan started to say.

 

Bulma cleared her throat and stepped into the conversation before the two could begin an argument. “I already asked Bra to call her,” she said. “We didn't need the school to call Videl before one of us did; it's better that she hears about the situation from us.”

 

Gohan sighed. “You're right,” he said. “It's better this way. I don't want her to worry more than she has to.”

 

Bulma turned to Vegeta. “I'm also going to let Goku and Chichi know,” she said. “If it were Trunks in Gohan's position, I would want to know what had happened.” She paused. “In the meantime, the test results from the analysis of Tullece's computer are done. It doesn't seem like the recording was disrupted by damage of any sort; it looks like it was recorded haphazardly originally. But, you can take a look at the results yourself if you want; Tullece is looking them over at the moment.”

 

“Hn,” Vegeta replied. He turned toward the door. “Goten, stay here with Gohan in case he needs anything.”

 

“Yeah, no problem,” Goten said. He watched the two of them leave, then turned back to his brother.

 

Gohan was eying the bandages on Goten's torso. “Vegeta said something about you having cracked ribs,” he said. “How did that happen?”

 

“It's nothing,” Goten said dismissively. “I'll be fine soon; we just didn't have any sensu here right now.”

 

“That's not what I asked, Goten,” Gohan said pointedly. His expression darkened. “Did Tullece do that to you?”

 

“_No_,” Goten replied. “Sheesh, why is that the first thing everyone assumes? I'm a Super Saiyan – I could probably hand his ass to him in a second.” He frowned. “I got in a fight with Dad,” he said finally. “And I didn't stand a chance against him.”

 

Gohan's eyes widened with surprise. “A fight with Dad?” he asked. “What-”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Goten grumbled. “I was out of my league. I know it was stupid; you don't have to remind me.”

 

“I wasn't going to say that, Goten,” Gohan said. “I wanted to know what you were fighting about.”

 

“I don't want to talk about it, all right?” Goten snapped. “I just want to forget about it. I'm finding something to heal these ribs the first chance I get, so that people will quit talking about it.”

 

Gohan let his head settle back into the ice packs underneath him and closed his eyes. “It's like we're all going insane,” he murmured. “Just what _is_ it about Saiyan blood?” He let the thought trail off. After a moment, he spoke again. “Tullece is here, then?” he asked. “My senses are haywire...I can't tell one ki signature from another. But Bulma said something about him...”

 

“Yeah,” Goten said. “It doesn't seem like he's going to be trouble, and Vegeta wants to find out how he survived the destruction of Planet Vegeta.”

 

Gohan stared at the ceiling. “I guess I didn't even think about it that much back then,” he said. “We all had our attention on destroying the Shinseiju, and Tullece was just another enemy in the way.” His eyes moved away from the smooth, white surface to look at his brother again. “How is it that Tullece is alive, anyway?” he asked. “And why did he show up now?”

 

“He was apparently hiding out while he healed from the injuries Dad gave him,” Goten said. He frowned and looked at the floor again. “He was looking for a girl, just like the rest of us, and Dad had left Mom alone again.”

 

Gohan pushed himself up quickly onto his elbows. “What?” he exclaimed. “Is Mom all right?”

 

“She's fine,” Goten said shortly. “Like I said, that Tullece guy doesn't seem to be a threat to any of us.”

 

Gohan started to speak again, but he fell silent as the door to the room edged open. Pan peeked into the room, then quietly slipped inside.

 

“Hi, Daddy,” she said. She walked over to the bed and set her hand on Gohan's arm. “Are you feeling better? Bra said you collapsed at work.”

 

Gohan settled back into the bed. “Yes, a bit better, anyway,” he said. “I suppose it was foolish of me to think that I could go to work, but I had wanted my life to continue as normally as possible.” A reflection on Pan's hand caught his eye, and he glanced down for a better look. His gaze lingered on the diamond ring on her finger for a moment before he took her hand in his.

 

Pan followed his gaze. “Trunks bought it for me,” she said softly. “To make everything official.”

 

“I see,” Gohan replied. “Are you...are you sure this is what you want?” he asked. “I realize you've known Trunks your whole life...but there's a difference between being friends and being married.”

 

“I know, Daddy,” Pan replied. “And I realize it's sudden. But, this is what I want to do. I'm not doing it because I'm forced to in any way.”

 

Gohan sighed and let go of her hand. “All right,” he said. “I know you're the only one who knows what you're feeling inside your heart. As long as you're happy, I'm okay with your decision.”

 

“Thanks, Daddy,” Pan said. She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “I want you to be happy too – so focus your energy on getting better right now.” She stood and glanced toward the door. “Trunks is waiting for me in the hall; he figured it would probably be better to wait until morning, after you've had a chance to rest, to try to talk with you.”

 

Gohan closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and looked toward the door. “No one can say the kid doesn't have a good head on his shoulders,” he murmured.

 

Pan turned her attention to Goten. “Bra's also waiting outside,” she said. “She didn't want to interrupt you and Gohan.”

 

Goten glanced at his brother. “I should stay with Gohan,” he began.

 

Gohan was already shaking his head. “I want to try to sleep anyway,” he said. “I'll be fine; go ahead and find out what Bra needs.” He waved the two of them toward the door.

 

“All right,” Goten said uncertainly. “I won't be far; call if you need anything.”

 

Gohan nodded and watched the two of them leave. He heaved a heavy, resigned sigh and closed his eyes as he settled back into the bed again. The melting ice packs were cool and taking on a slight softness underneath him, but he couldn't get himself to wind down enough to sleep.

 

Just then, a tapping sound made him open his eyes and look around. At first, he couldn't locate the sound; it repeated, and he realized something was tapping on the window to the room. It was dark outside, but as he looked carefully at the window, he was able to make out a pair of large, blue-green eyes set deeply in a giant, purple reptilian face. The creature tapped the window again with its nose, and Gohan blinked, unsure he could believe what he was seeing. “Haiya dragon?”

 

The dragon opened its mouth and made a quiet, rumbling roar. Its face wavered back and forth eagerly, as though asking Gohan to come near. Gohan carefully stood from the bed and walked to the window. He slid the pane up soundlessly and looked out disbelievingly at the enormous dragon in the yard.

 

“It **is** you, isn't it?” he asked. “Haiya dragon! What are you doing here?”

 

The dragon took the edge of Gohan's collar in his mouth and tugged gently on it, then flapped its wings lightly and swung its tail up to point to its back several times.

 

“I can't play now!” Gohan protested. “I'm in no condition to go out, even if it **were** daytime!”

 

The dragon was insistent and tugged harder on Gohan's collar. Gohan searched its eyes, trying to understand what the dragon wanted.

 

“You want to show me something, don't you?” Gohan asked.

 

The dragon made a rumbling noise around the fabric it held in its mouth and flapped its wings again.

 

“All right, all right,” Gohan said. “We go right there and come back. I can't be going all over the place.” He quickly climbed out the window and up onto the dragon's back.

 

The dragon's wings had grown, along with the rest of its body, since Gohan had been a child. He marveled at their impressive span as the dragon lifted off the ground, then settled himself between them against the leathery purple skin and watched the ground and then the city fall away from them. After only a few moments, they were soaring out over open countryside.

 

Gohan let his head rest against the powerful shoulders underneath him and closed his eyes. Even in the warm night air, the feel of the air rushing past his face felt good, and the low rumble deep inside the dragon's chest lulled him into a sense of security. “How long has it been?” he wondered idly. “Too long, at any rate.”

 

Only when the dragon suddenly rocked back and forth to keep him steady did Gohan realize he was falling asleep. He moved sleepily to steady himself on the dragon's back, and suddenly his world was reeling around him. “Haiya dragon...” he began. “I think...I think we better land somewhere.”

 

The dragon was already soaring gently toward the ground. Gohan saw a flat stretch of grassland on the edge of a dense forest before them, and he breathed a small sigh of relief as they touched down lightly on the grass. Gohan tumbled off the dragon's back and looked up at the sky as he waited for his dizziness to abate.

 

Haiya dragon nuzzled Gohan's cheek and made soft, deep noises in his throat. His large eyes moved worriedly between Gohan and the landscape around them.

 

“It's okay, Friend,” Gohan murmured. He reached up shakily to stroke the dragon's muzzle. “I'll be okay...I just need to beat this fever.” Then, the soft motion of his hand faltered, and he fainted.

 

Gohan woke to the sound of the dragon crying out. He turned his head slowly and blinked as his eyes focused on a figure standing over them. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out a young woman with straight blonde hair and almond-shaped eyes. Purple, reflective sunglasses were perched on top of her head, and she carried a bag of groceries on her arm.

 

“It's a good thing your friend is so protective,” the young woman said. “This isn't a good place to be sleeping, especially for someone who's ill.” The sound of a saber-toothed cat yowling in the distance punctuated her statement.

 

“Oh...right,” Gohan began. “Actually, it wasn't my intent to sleep here...I'm afraid my fever's been getting the better of me lately.” He sat up slowly and brought a hand to his throbbing head.

 

“My home is not far from here,” the young woman said. “I will gladly take in you and your dragon so that you have a safe place to sleep for the night.”

 

“Oh, you don't have to trouble yourself,” Gohan began. He reached up to the dragon beside him for support as he stood, but he stumbled forward slightly. Gohan felt the purple nose push its way under his arm and nudge him in the direction of the young woman.

 

She laughed. “It seems your dragon agrees with me,” she said gently. “I don't blame him; you don't look very well at all.”

 

“Yes, you're right,” Gohan said with a sigh. “If you're sure it's no trouble-”

 

The young woman stood opposite the dragon and put Gohan's arm around her shoulders. “This way,” she said. She nodded toward a dark path leading into the woods. “The path looks dark, but it's not hard to follow, and it leads right to my place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! The blonde I introduced in this chapter is not (entirely) an OC! She's a recurring background/minor character in the series/movies I am fleshing out and giving more character to. :3


	17. Chapter 17

West Kaio watched the warrior Paikuhan quickly dispatch his foes for a moment, then turned his attention back to the other three. “Well, it looks like Paikuhan's not getting the workout he wanted to get,” he said. “I'll have to keep searching to find him stronger opponents.”

 

“You do that,” North Kaio replied snidely. “You know there aren't any in _your_ quadrant.”

 

“North Kaio...” West Kaio began warningly.

 

South Kaio cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he began. “this isn't why we're here. The practice matches are just to keep our students busy - or have you forgotten?”

 

North Kaio and West Kaio glared at each other one last time before turning to look at him. “No, we haven't forgotten,” North Kaio replied.

 

“Indeed, there's a matter of much more importance at hand.”

 

The four Kaios turned to look at Dai Kaio, who was seated on his throne. Dai Kaio watched the matches taking place before him for a moment longer, then dismissed his attendant. As the small man quickly moved away, Dai Kaio took a piece of parchment out of his pocket and looked it over. He stared at the parchment for several long moments; then, his uncharacteristic seriousness began to worry the Kaios, and North Kaio spoke up.

 

“Is there something the matter, Dai Kaio-sama?”

 

Dai Kaio frowned and set the paper down. “Well, troublesome at the least,” he began. “It seems the Son of the Sun has slipped away from his most recent residence unnoticed. That planet's god just noticed him missing; he has no idea how long he has been gone.”

 

A startled murmur ran through the Kaios. “Well...we haven't had any problems from him in some time,” West Kaio began. “Perhaps he's finally settled down and won't be any more trouble.”

 

“I sincerely hope that is the case,” Dai Kaio said. “Unfortunately, I think we all know how strong his grudge against us is. Even with Freeza and his father long since dead, the Son of the Sun will not necessarily give up the grudge against us for letting them live.” He paused and looked sadly at the ground. “I'm afraid some mistakes will continue to haunt one for eternity.”

 

South Kaio shook his head. “Cold's family was a necessary evil,” he said. “Freeza alone was able to do a job that would have taken countless other warriors to do. He and his family would have been dealt with in their own time.”

 

“Right, by whom?” East Kaio asked sharply. “By one of your warriors? I think not. Do you even remember the Annoyoichi Budokai? I didn't see your best winning it.”

 

“Right, because my Son Goku was cleaning up all of the competition,” North Kaio said. He puffed up his chest in pride. “I take special pride in that boy...he trained up far beyond my expectations.”

 

Dai Kaio leaned forward and interrupted the squabbling. “_Your Son Goku_,” he said, “is a Saiyan. If he hadn't been sent off Planet Vegeta before Freeza destroyed it, he would have perished with the rest of them.”

 

With that statement, all four of the Kaios before him fell silent and looked at their feet. Dai Kaio sat back and sighed before continuing. “We got lucky that our attempt to kill that boy as an infant failed,” he said. “If he had not survived that fall into the ravine, none of us might be here today; even if we had somehow put down Freeza and the rest of his family, we'd have likely still had Buu to tangle with down the line.”

 

He took a deep breath. “But, we can learn from our mistakes and build on them. The Son has a habit of settling on planets that are strong either in resources or warriors. We don't know for sure where he's gone, but he may very well end up on Earth if the Saiyans there catch his attention. We need to get to them before he does. North Kaio, we're going to rely on your relationship with Son Goku to keep goodwill between us and them.”

 

“Yes, Dai Kaio-sama,” North Kaio replied. “I don't foresee any problems. I've met and worked with a number of Goku's friends, as well as Goku himself. I don't think anyone on Earth questions my consideration for them.”

 

* * *

 

In the nearby ring, Paikuhan couldn't believe what he was hearing. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop on the Kaios' conversation – he'd only let his attention wander for a moment out of sheer boredom with his current opponent. Now, however, he couldn't turn his ears away. Did Dai Kaio _really_ just say the Kaios had tried to have all of the Saiyans wiped out, including Goku...that they'd go so far as to kill an infant to obtain that goal?

 

He quickly dispatched his opponent with a kick into the far wall and glanced at the Kaios while he waited for the next challenger to climb into the ring. He didn't want to jump to conclusions; it was entirely possible that he'd misheard, since he'd had his attention partially on his match.

 

It appeared as though the Kaios were wrapping up their discussion, so Paikuhan turned his attention back to the new challenger. He'd fought the man before – this one was far below Paikuhan's level; another bland, nondescript warrior from a nondescript planet. He sighed and knocked him out with a quick kick to the head.

 

“Paikuhan-san!” West Kaio called. “It doesn't seem you're going to find any real competition here today. I think we'll return home and continue your training solo for a while, until someone has a real challenger to stand up to you; or maybe we'll look at some possible challengers from our own quadrant.”

 

“Yes, Kaio-sama,” Paikuhan replied. He nodded his head respectfully to his teacher and stepped down from the ring.

 

“Perhaps we'll take you on a tour through Hell,” West Kaio said thoughtfully. “From what I've heard, Enma Daio has been having some difficulty keeping a few of the ogres there in check. Getting uppity with their positions and all that. I think you have the skills to put them back in their place.”

 

“I'm certain it won't be a problem, Kaio-sama,” Paikuhan replied.

 

“This will also be good practice for when some of the stronger residents of Hell decide they need to make an escape,” West Kaio continued. “It's been a while since any of them have attempted it, and since most of them felt the need to flood Earth, a few of the warriors there were able to clean up the mess. But, I'm certain that won't always be the case; mortals have a finite lifespan, and most of them will end up simply as spirits again.”

 

“And ones like Son Goku?” Paikuhan queried. “He came to our realm as an esteemed warrior, and was allowed to continue his training here,” he said. “Certainly he and his friends would be able to assist in that endeavor.”

 

West Kaio frowned. “I have no intent of relying on Son Goku or any of the other warriors from North Kaio's quadrant,” he replied. “Son Goku may have been a fine boy when he was here before, but he was also young and inexperienced. There's no telling how time will have changed him now that he's been restored to life and is living among mortals again. I find it more prudent to simply have my own warriors be the best that they are able to be.” He paused outside an ornate doorway and looked up at massive stone doors. “Now then, let's pay a visit to Enma Daio, shall we?” he asked.

 

“Yes, Kaio-sama,” Paikuhan replied.

 

* * *

 

Raditz paused for breath and glanced around uneasily. He never knew precisely where the ogres would approach from, and they were far more experienced and able to navigate Hell than he was. He wasn't even able to keep track of time anymore; days passed like years, years passed like days, and he never knew if he stopped for a minute or twenty minutes. He knew that his refusal to revert to soul form was the reason for his current suffering, but despite the bitterness he felt inside, he could not bring himself to give up. He kept telling himself that he hadn't been in Hell that long, and that Vegeta and Nappa would certainly have the so-called dragon balls soon and would wish him back to life, just as his brother's friends planned to do for Kakarotto.

 

A small voice inside his head kept telling him that it wasn't true; the dragon balls were a fairy tale at best. Even if they _were_ real, they couldn't have the power to bring someone back to life. He was going to run into Kakarotto any day, in fact – Hell was the end of the road for traitors, after all.

 

The conflicting thoughts were pushed aside when he heard a whip whistle through the air. He felt a sharp slash across his tail and backside, and he yelped and leaped forward. He spun around to face his attacker and scowled as he recognized one of the ogre leaders he'd escaped from earlier.

 

“So, tired of running, whelp?” the ogre snarled. “Why don't you make it easy on yourself and just follow the rules?”

 

“I'll never take orders from you,” Raditz returned. “I am a Saiyan warrior – don't think that some whips and a few battles will take me down.”

 

The two of them were suddenly interrupted by the approach of another ogre. The new arrival glanced scornfully at Raditz before turning to his companion.

 

“I don't care what your hobby is,” the new ogre said, “but I recommend you take it to one of the remote regions for a while. Enma Daio has apparently decided to send one of West Kaio's warriors down here to put things back in order...and punish any ogres caught straying outside their job description.”

 

The ogre brandishing the whip scowled. “Terrific,” he muttered. “Exactly what I needed to brighten my day. Who the fuck tipped off the Kaios this time?”

 

“We don't know yet,” the other said. “I have a couple of guys looking into it. In the meantime, try to get the word around – we'll stage an incident or two for this warrior of West Kaio's to put down so he thinks he's cleaned up the problem.”

 

“I'll take this one over to Needle Mountain for the time being,” the first ogre said. “There aren't many who venture there; I've got a lead on someone else who wants a turn with him anyway, so I'll just hand him off if things get too hot.”

 

Raditz scowled. It was bad enough the ogres were talking about him as though he weren't even there, but to add insult to injury, they were talking about him as if he were some cheap toy or unfashionable pet. He balled his hands into fists and moved into a defensive stance.

 

“You're not taking me anywhere,” he growled. “I am not some cheap toy for your amusement.”

 

The ogres glanced at him and chuckled. “Is that so?” the first one asked. “Perhaps you need a reminder of exactly what you are to us?”

 

Raditz ground his teeth and didn't respond.

 

The first ogre sneered at him. “Well then, let's see how tough you're acting after _this!_” He pulled back his arm and swung his fist forward with a powerful arc.

 

Raditz raised his arms in front of his face and braced for a heavy blast; instead, he found himself enveloped in a thick, dusty cloud. He tried to peer through the dust to the ogres standing outside it but was unable to see anything. He coughed against the intrusion of the dust in his throat as he struggled to breathe.

 

After a moment, the dust began to settle, but rather than finding the clear air and relief he'd been hoping for, Raditz found himself still struggling to breathe through airways that didn't want to work. He coughed again; this time, the cough reverberated through his chest and sent sharp pains into his sides. He became alarmed as the coughing didn't cease; instead, the pervasive feel of the dust in his throat caused it to become more rapid and more violent. Between fits of coughing he gasped for breath, only to find too little air to ease his lungs.

 

Raditz fell to the ground, wheezing and choking between coughs. His vision began to waver, and he feared he was going to pass out at any moment. He glanced up at the sound of footsteps approaching him and saw the two ogres standing above him, leering at his struggle.

 

“So, who's the tough guy now?” his tormentor asked. “What do you think of our Needle Powder? It's specially prepared just for annoyances like you.”

 

Raditz shook his head as he struggled against the effects of the powder. “G-go...go to...” he gasped.

 

“Go to Hell?” The two ogres laughed, and his tormentor hauled him up by the front of his armor to look him in the eye. “Just where do you think you _are_, Boy?”

 

Raditz spat in the ogre's face and curled his lip in disdain. The ogre suddenly became deadly serious.

 

“That one will cost you, Boy,” he said. He grasped Raditz by the throat with his free hand and added pressure to the already-constricted airway.

 

Thoughts and images tumbled through Raditz's mind as he struggled against the ogre in a panic. He could feel himself blacking out; his vision faded in and out with each passing moment, and he couldn't keep focused on what was happening to him. Suddenly, an image from his childhood surfaced in his mind – the large, beautiful moon of Planet Vegeta, not quite full, rising over the hills behind his home village. The sudden nostalgia made him choke with fear – he wondered if this was what it was like to finally meet one's end. He'd had no such visions when he and Kakarotto had died on the battlefield.

 

In his mind, he stretched out his hands toward the shining moon. Its slowly-changing face gave all children - all Saiyans, for that matter - something to look forward to. The time of the full moon was a time of great joy for a Saiyan, one that was sacred and cherished...at least, it _was_, until _he_ had arrived on their planet.

 

The memories jogged Raditz's willpower back to the surface. It _couldn't_ end like this for him; he was a Saiyan warrior. He _had_ to continue on, _had_ to continue existing...if for no other reason than to ensure that the Saiyans' suffering had not been for naught.

 

He turned his outstretched hands upward to cup the image of the moon in his palms, and he tilted his face up to feel the ethereal white rays ghost over his skin. _“Goddess,”_ he pleaded internally, _“don't let it end like this for me. I need to survive...please, give me the chance.”_

 

Raditz opened his eyes suddenly and found himself lying on the ground in a completely different area of Hell. The hard, baked ground was warm on his skin where his face and limbs made contact with the ground. He could hear voices speaking behind him; one of them was the ogre who had been pursuing him.

 

“It's worse than that,” an unfamiliar voice said. “It's not just any warrior – he's brought Paikuhan down here. Someone must have pushed their luck a little too far with Enma Daio's patience, and all of us are going to pay for it if we're not careful.”

 

“Terrific,” Raditz's attacker said. “I'm leaving the whelp with you, then. I certainly am not able to stand up to Paikuhan, and I'm not looking forward to being blasted into oblivion.”

 

“That's fine by me,” the other replied. “I can use cannon fodder for an offensive I'm planning. I have a couple of my subordinates running block as a distraction for Paikuhan and Enma Daio in the meantime. It's going to require a little jaunt up to Earth, and I don't need Enma Daio finding out about it.”

 

“Earth? What are you bothering with there? It's such a miserable little planet...”

 

“One of the rebels who fled to Earth was from my sector,” the unknown ogre said. “He's still refusing to come back, even to this day; I've come up with a little plan to force his hand.”

 

“Well, whatever,” the first ogre said. “By the sound of it, I don't want to know any more than that – it's just going to complicate my life if things go bad.” He walked over to Raditz and hauled the Saiyan up by the back of his armor. “It looks like the whelp is waking up anyway, so he's all yours now.”

 

Raditz found himself suddenly face-to-face with a heavily-muscled, grizzled ogre. One of the ogre's eyes was shut and crossed with a deep scar; the other looked him over disdainfully before turning back to the ogre holding him. “At least he's bigger than most of the others I have,” the scarred ogre commented. “I can put him up front as a tank.” He gestured with his thumb, and the other ogre dropped Raditz to the ground.

 

“Welcome aboard my crew,” the grizzled ogre said to Raditz. “On your feet; we're going to take a march up to Earth.”

 

* * *

 

Bardock paused and leaned forward with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Vegeta,” he said, “keep going. I'll catch up.”

 

“Like hell,” the other Saiyan replied. He grasped Bardock's arm and looked him square in the eye. “I don't leave men behind, regardless of who they are,” he said.

 

Bardock straightened up and started forward again. “Fine, fine,” he said. “Let's -” His statement was cut off in mid-sentence as he suddenly froze up and his eyes glazed over.

 

“No, not now!” the elder Vegeta groaned. “Bardock, snap out of it! They'll be on us at any moment!” He shook the Saiyan man by the shoulders but received no response.

 

The former Saiyan king was always amazed how Bardock's visions could grip him at any time, regardless of the situation. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason for how they came and went, and even at inopportune times like this one, he would freeze up as the vision took hold of his mind.

 

The sound of pounding footsteps behind them drew Vegeta's attention back to their pursuers. The ogres quickly advanced on the two of them, brandishing studded whips; when they noticed Bardock's condition, they grinned.

 

“So, we're finally able to nail you two, are we?” one of them asked gleefully.

 

Vegeta crouched into a defensive pose between them and Bardock. “Not if _I_ have anything to say about it,” he replied. He raised his hand before him and fired a blast of ki directly into the chest of the ogres' leader.

 

The ogres chuckled as dust billowed up around them and then settled again. Their leader brushed some soot off of the front of his shirt and examined the tattered and burned material left behind. “Damn, and this was one of my good shirts,” he complained. He turned his gaze back to Vegeta and Bardock. “I hope you're prepared to pay for that, Worm.”

 

Vegeta frowned in contempt. Beside him, Bardock groaned and shook his head as he finally broke free of the vision that had paralyzed him.

 

“Good timing,” Vegeta replied. “I was starting to think I was going to have to take these infinite losers out myself.”

 

Bardock grinned. “Glory hog,” he said.

 

The two of them turned their attention back to the advancing ogres. One of the ogres started to raise his whip, but then the entire group of them stopped short. They frowned and muttered awkwardly, all the while glaring at something behind the two Saiyans.

 

Bardock and Vegeta glanced back and saw a tall, willowy woman standing a few feet behind them. She was dressed in a voluminous, shimmering robe that trailed along the ground, and her face was hidden in the shadows of a large hood. She advanced soundlessly and stood beside the two men.

 

“I have authorization from Enma Daio to take these two with me,” she said. Her voice was quiet and gentle, but it held the firm air of authority.

 

“Yeah, whatever,” the lead ogre snarled. “Get them out of our faces, then.”

 

The woman nodded and reached toward the two Saiyans. “Please, come with me,” she requested.

 

Vegeta and Bardock glanced between the ogres, who were retreating, and the woman. She remained where she stood, with her hand extended in invitation.

 

“Who are you?” Vegeta demanded. “How did you make them back down like that?”

 

“I am Endisty, the keeper of the Tapestry of Fate,” she said. “I weave their fates as assuredly as I weave any others; they are well aware of that fact.”

 

“What business have you with us now?” Bardock demanded. “We are long dead; if you control fate, you should know that our fates were sealed long ago.”

 

“It was a tangle in my tapestry that resulted in your deaths,” Endisty replied. “I asked Enma Daio to turn your files over to me so that I may restore you to life. I would like you to join me in my realm until all of the preparations are finished.”

 

At this, the two Saiyans turned to face her fully. “You mean to tell us that our deaths – and all this time we've spent in Hell since – were the result of an accident?” Vegeta asked.

 

“More like tampering from the gods,” Endisty replied. “If you would come with me...I can explain fully once we return to my abode.”

 

Vegeta folded his arms across his chest. “Very well,” he said. “We obviously have nothing to lose.” He nodded to Bardock, and the two of them followed her as she turned and glided across the ground.

 

The three traveled across the heat-blasted terrain to a sheer cliff. Endisty reached out and touched the cliff, and an ornate door suddenly appeared before them. She opened it and gestured for them to follow her through.

 

Vegeta and Bardock looked around with trepidation as they stepped out before Enma Daio's desk. They glanced up at the looming figure seated behind the desk, but he paid them no attention as he processed the incoming souls.

 

“Enma Daio, I have brought out two of the souls I requested,” Endisty said, interrupting the proceedings.

 

He glanced over his papers at the three of them, then turned back to his work. “Fine, fine, whatever,” he said. “On your way with them, then.”

 

Just then, a door across from them opened, and West Kaio stepped into the room, followed by Paikuhan. He looked over the line stretching before Enma Daio's desk, then turned to the emperor himself. “My apologies for interrupting, Enma Daio-sama,” he said. “I understand that you've had some troubles in Hell as of late; I thought perhaps Paikuhan may be able to help straighten them out.”

 

Enma Daio looked over the two new arrivals. “Yes, Paikuhan's been of assistance in Hell before; I'm sure it's nothing he can't handle. You're welcome to take him down and see what you can do.” He handed a slip of paper to West Kaio, then glanced at Endisty and the two Saiyans. “And get those two out of here,” he said with a wave of his hand. “They're just going to tangle up the line.”

 

Paikuhan's eyes traveled to the three Enma Daio had addressed, and they widened when they landed on Bardock. “Son Goku?” he asked.

 

Bardock looked over at him sharply. “Son Goku? Who is that?”

 

Paikuhan shook his head. “Never mind,” he said. “You look like a Saiyan from Earth I know, but he doesn't have a scar on his face like that. I was mistaken – my apologies.”

 

“A Saiyan from Earth?” Bardock exclaimed. “You don't mean my son, Kakarotto?”

 

“Kakarotto?” Paikuhan replied. “The name sounds familiar...” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps...yes, that may have been what Vegeta was calling Son Goku when the two of them were together.”

 

West Kaio was becoming irritated with the conversation. “Paikuhan, I'm afraid we don't have time for this,” he said. “Endisty, why are these two even out of Hell, anyway?”

 

“They are being restored to life to fix a hole in my tapestry,” Endisty replied smoothly.

 

“What?” West Kaio demanded. “Since when? You did not consult any of _us_ over this!”

 

“They're not your concern, West Kaio,” Endisty said. “They will be placed in North Kaio's quadrant, and the last time I checked, he is not in a position to negate this.”

 

“Does Dai Kaio-sama know about this?” West Kaio demanded.

 

“I am certain he does,” Endisty replied. “He is the overseer of the galaxy; unless he's become lazy, like some quadrant leaders have, he knows of everything that's happened.”

 

“Endisty...” West Kaio began warningly.

 

“Enough, both of you!” Enma Daio snapped. “Take your argument elsewhere, if you will. You're holding up the line and creating a backlog.”

 

“We're done here,” West Kaio said. He put his nose to the air and turned away from Endisty and the two Saiyans. “Paikuhan, you have work to do.” He indicated for Paikuhan to follow him.

 

“Yes, we must be leaving as well,” Endisty said placidly. “Bardock and Vegeta, if you would follow me...” She pointed the two across the room and away from West Kaio and Paikuhan.

 

“_Vegeta?_” Paikuhan thought. He and the two Saiyans eyed each other thoughtfully as they passed each other in front of Enma Daio's desk.

 

Endisty led Bardock and Vegeta through another decorated door and they stepped out into a wide, peaceful plain. Before them, a small wooden cabin stood silently.

 

“Please wait here for a short while,” Endisty replied. “The house is yours to explore, or you may spend time out here. I have others I have to retrieve yet.”

 

“Where is this place?” Vegeta asked. “Is this Earth?”

 

“No,” Endisty replied. “This is my home. However, it is much like Earth – all of the pleasures of life can be found here, and you are welcome to experience them while you stay.” She nodded shortly to the two Saiyans, then disappeared.

 

“All the pleasures of life...” Bardock mused. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

 

“I could be, if necessary,” Vegeta replied.

 

Bardock stuck his tongue out at him. “Cheater,” he said. “Don't even try to tell me that all of that time on the run hasn't left you wanting-” A sudden rumble from his stomach interrupted him.

 

“Right – food,” the other Saiyan said. “Shall we hunt?”

 

“Biggest kill wins,” Bardock said with a grin.

 

* * *

 

“It doesn't look like he's here, oni.” The stout, red ogre scratched absentmindedly at the single horn in the center of his head as he spoke. “We've turned the place inside out, oni; there's a few servants around, but the Gyu-mao isn't here, oni.”

 

The grizzled ogre before him scowled. “Then we figure out where he went,” he replied. “Start interrogating the servants.”

 

“Already have, oni,” the ogre replied. “These pathetic humans are stupidly loyal, oni; they're willing to die to protect their master. Only reason we haven't finished them off yet is so that none of them go tipping off Enma Daio, oni.”

 

“Well, fuck it all, then,” the leader replied. “There must be some clue; call the others back here. We'll figure out what everyone knows and make a plan from there.”

 

The smaller ogre hurried away, and within a few minutes, a group of ogres herding tortured souls before them gathered in the hall. The leader surveyed them for a moment before calling out above their muttering.

 

“It seems the Gyu-mao has had the good fortune of not being home when we arrived,” he said, “and if I'm understanding the situation correctly, _none_ of you has been able to elicit further information from the servants here.”

 

The hall echoed momentarily with the sound of nervously shuffling feet and coughs.

 

“At least _one _of you has to have seen something or heard something that is of use in tracking him down,” their leader continued. “I want to hear anything regarding where the Gyu-mao may have gone.”

 

The group was awkwardly silent for a moment, as ogres averted their eyes and the tortured souls looked at the ceiling, walls and floors in an attempt not to catch anyone's eye.

 

Raditz took the opportunity to move his attention away from the ogre who'd been herding him and to the surroundings in the hall. He'd been told they were after some sort of rebel from Hell, but everyone they'd encountered in the castle had been decidedly human. The mission they were on was also one of the most frustrating he'd ever been on – while none of the humans would cooperate with any of them or provide them with information, they weren't allowed to kill any of them. The humans were let go with mild harassment, and the ogres were no closer to finding their target. It was no wonder, Raditz thought, that Hell made so few advancements over time.

 

As his eyes wandered over the walls, a set of portraits hanging near the staircase caught his eye. Most of them featured a tall, broad man with a thick beard and horns protruding from either side of a hard cap – he realized that must be the man they were after. Many of those portraits also showed a petite, dark-haired girl at various stages of life, from a tiny infant to a grown adult. However, one portrait in particular captured his attention – along with the Gyu-mao and the girl was his little brother, Kakarotto. The Gyu-mao was standing in the back of the photograph, with his arms reaching around the shoulders of the other two. Kakarotto was dressed all in white, and the young woman next to him wore a long white dress and held a bouquet of flowers. Another photo nearby showed the three of them in a more informal family setting, this time with a tiny boy Raditz recognized as his nephew. _“The girl is the Gyu-mao's daughter,”_ Raditz realized, _“and she's married to my little brother.”_

 

The grizzled ogre noticed Raditz's preoccupation and followed his gaze to the portraits on the wall. He stomped heavily over to the portraits and examined them carefully. “So, it's true,” he finally sneered. “The Gyu-mao has a half-human brat, and she has a family of her own now.” He turned away from the portraits and made a beckoning motion with his hand. An odd, eyeball-shaped demon with batlike wings fluttered out of the group of ogres and approached him.

 

“**Her**,” the ogre said forcefully. He stabbed a stubby finger with a sharp nail toward Chichi's image. “Find her, and we'll likely find the Gyu-mao – and if he's not with her, he'll come to us to get her back.”

 

Raditz's mind reeled with the implication. Whether his brother had been brought back to life or not, his brother's son had still been alive, and the woman was only half-human herself. Suddenly, his nephew's unbelievable power made much more sense. Equally as suddenly, the task they were on became much more impossible. He bit back a chuckle as he considered the situation they were going to be marching intentionally into. His shoulders shook as the absurdity of the situation overcame him, and he was unable to contain himself longer. He doubled over in half-crazed laughter before the confused group around him.

 

“Care to share the source of your amusement, Worm?” the ogre leader demanded. He gripped Raditz by the front of his armor and shook him aggressively. “Perhaps you know something after all?”

 

Raditz's laughter became broken and eventually subsided under the assault, but he did not answer the question. He was looking forward to witnessing the slaughter first-hand when the denizens of Hell attempted to kidnap the woman. _“We're all going to die...again,”_ he realized.

 

The ogre tossed Raditz to the floor in disgust. “All brawn and no brains,” he spat. “It's no wonder you Saiyans died out so easily. Since you seem to be so overjoyed at the task ahead, you get to be on the front line and take whatever defense the Gyu-mao's daughter may have around her.”

 

“Hn!” Raditz replied defiantly. “Then you'll get an in-person look at exactly what we Saiyans are made of.” He got back to his feet and tightened his tail around his waist; he turned his back on the ogre and sauntered to the front of the group.


	18. Chapter 18

Bulma opened the front door to find Goku, Chichi and Videl all standing on the front step. She smiled and stepped back to let them inside. “Come on in,” she said. “Pretty much everyone is awake now – I guess there's no getting a Saiyan back to sleep once they've been woken up.”

 

“Thanks, Bulma,” Goku said. “How _is_ Gohan doing?”

 

“Resting, for the moment,” Bulma replied. “Goten is sitting with him in case he needs anything; I imagine it's stressful for him to have collapsed at work like that.”

 

Chichi wrung her hands anxiously as the three of them followed Bulma into the sitting room. “If only there was some way to relieve his fever,” she said. “Even if he could just be more comfortable for a while, it would be easier for him.”

 

Vegeta looked up briefly from a sheet of paper he was scrutinizing. He eyed the Son family critically for a moment, then turned his attention back to the paper in his hand. “We've done everything we can for the boy,” he said gruffly. “He's just going to need to sleep through it, now.”

 

Videl looked at her feet as she sat down on the sofa. “I've never seen Gohan like this before,” she said quietly. “I mean, we were through a lot when we were teenagers, with Majin Buu and all...but even after he was trained by Rou Kaioshin, he still seemed like himself. Now it seems like his life is turned upside down.”

 

“He's a Saiyan; Saiyans have to be adaptable.” The voice startled the newcomers, and they turned their heads to peer at the Saiyan who'd gone unnoticed until then.

 

“Tullece,” Goku said. His voice was low and carried a warning note in it. “What would you know about it?”

 

“It's how I've survived all these years on this planet,” Tullece retorted. “After you all but killed me, I had no choice but to adapt. I had to pretend to be nothing but another Earthling in order to live and go unnoticed. I had to adapt to make a life for myself in a world where I couldn't fight to my hardest. Before I came here, I had to adapt to ever-changing life in a pirate haven to get to the top and thrive.” He glared hard at Goku and continued. “Don't even suggest that I know nothing about adapting, Kakarotto.”

 

Goku returned the glare, but before he could speak, Vegeta cut in. “If you're going to snipe at each other, take it outside,” he demanded. “We don't need nonsense here.”

 

Goku and Tullece fell silent and turned away from each other. The silence weighed heavily in the room for a moment. Then, voices in the hall caught their attention, and Trunks and Pan walked into the room, followed closely by Goten and Bra.

 

“Oh, Goten, Pan!” Bulma exclaimed. “Your parents are here. I was just about to let you know.”

 

Goten glanced warily at his parents, then turned away. “Yeah, okay,” he replied. “Gohan said he wanted to sleep, so I figured I'd hit the sack for a few hours as well.”

 

“Yeah, it's getting to be a really long day,” Pan agreed. She snuggled against Trunks's arm and leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment. “I'm looking forward to bed myself.”

 

Videl bit back a comment and studied the floor. Then she sighed and stood up. “I...I suppose I should at least let Gohan know I'm here,” she said. “If he's already asleep, I'll just sit with him until he wakes up.”

 

Bulma stepped forward and gestured toward the hall. “Come on, I'll show you to his room,” she said. “Son-kun, you and Chichi come along too; we have a guest room you two can stay in for now.”

 

Trunks turned toward his father as the four of them headed down the hall. “Good night, Dad,” he said. “I expect to be up first thing in the morning; I want to talk to Gohan-san after he's had a decent night's rest.”

 

Vegeta snorted in reply. “Not happening, in his condition,” he said. “But there's no reason for any of you to lose sleep over it.”

 

Trunks nodded and started to speak again; however, he was interrupted by Bulma and the others hurrying back into the room.

 

“Gohan's not in his room,” Bulma said in a rush. “Son-kun felt out his ki, and he says he's quite a way from here already. He can't tell where Gohan's headed, though – he doesn't seem to be headed back to Satan City or to their mountain home.”

 

Vegeta palmed his face. “I don't even want to know what that brat is up to now,” he said.

 

“The window was open, and there are footprints from some kind of dragon or dinosaur in the flowerbed underneath it,” Bulma said. “Chichi said Gohan had a pet dragon when he was little, and he used to run off with it unexpectedly sometimes.”

 

“A pet dragon?” Goten echoed in surprise. “I didn't know about that!”

 

“It's been gone for years!” Chichi seethed. “I thought he'd finally gotten rid of it, like I kept telling him to do! That animal was **always** getting him into trouble!”

 

Tullece snickered. “Too bad he didn't,” he commented. “That beast saved Kakarotto's ass when he was fighting me; the boy would have crushed his own father while he was Oozaru if that stupid dragon hadn't calmed him.”

 

“Don't worry about that now!” Goku interjected. “We need to find out where Gohan's gone to. Even if he's with Haiya Dragon, it's not guaranteed he won't run into more trouble.”

 

“Kakarotto, you're a moron sometimes,” Vegeta commented. “Just use your Instantaneous Movement to find him and bring him back.”

 

“Oh, yeah!” Goku said. “I forgot about that!” He put his fingers to his forehead and felt for Gohan's ki, then frowned. “This doesn't make any sense,” he said. “I felt him just a couple of minutes ago...now I can't find his ki at all.”

 

The others stared at him in alarm. “What do you mean, you can't find it?” Bulma asked.

 

“It's like he's disappeared,” Goku said. He shrugged his shoulders in confusion. “It's possible he suppressed his ki for some reason...but he wasn't bothering to control it before.”

 

“It's also possible he's unconscious somewhere,” Vegeta said sharply. “Let's go; we'll search in the direction you last detected him.” He narrowed his eyes at Tullece. “You're coming with. We have enough problems with nosy humans without you being left to your own devices right now.”

 

Tullece shrugged. “Sure. It's not like I've anything better to do.”

 

Vegeta pointed the group out the door. “Kakarotto, lead the way. Once we get to the last place he was at, we'll split up and search for him.”

 

* * *

 

Piccolo paused in mid-air and scanned the terrain below him. He was certain he was over the area where he'd felt Gohan's ki vanish, but there was no trace of the half-Saiyan – or anything, for that matter – in the landscape below him. A gentle breeze swept across the grasslands and into the nearby forest, but no people or animals stirred.

 

He turned his attention once again to seeking Gohan's ki signature, though he knew it would be a futile effort. As he mentally scanned outward in increasing distances, he detected a group headed his way; as he studied the way their ki fluctuated, he realized it was Gohan's family and Vegeta's family. _They're following him, _Piccolo realized. _The brat must have taken off unexpectedly._

 

The Namekian waited silently as the group flew up to where he hovered. He eyed them for a moment, then turned his attention back to looking for Gohan.

 

“This is about where I lost track of Gohan,” Goku said. He had his arm around Chichi's waist, and she clung to him as he drifted in a small circle to scan their surroundings.

 

“And what have you to do with this?” Vegeta demanded pointedly. He narrowed his eyes at Piccolo.

 

Piccolo's upper lip curled slightly in annoyance at the tone of Vegeta's voice. His own eyes narrowed as he regarded the group. “I am looking for Gohan,” he replied. “His ki vanished before I was able to catch up with him.”

 

Goku landed gently on the ground and set Chichi down beside him. The others followed suit. “Then we're just going to have to search the old-fashioned way,” he said. He and the others examined the landscape around them.

 

“There's a trail of some sort into the woods, Grandpa!” Pan exclaimed. “Maybe he went in there!”

 

The group eyed the dark breach in the trees. “There's only one way to find out,” Goten said. He shrugged his shoulders and walked up to the trail entrance. He studied the ground for a moment. “The trail's been used regularly, at least,” he said. “And there are recent footprints on it.”

 

The others walked up for a look. The footprints showed up as barely-noticeable divots in the ground, obscured by the dark night and the shadows from the trees. Chichi sighed with frustration. “These could be from anyone,” she complained. “I can barely see the trail, let alone the footprints.”

 

Bulma dug through her pockets as Chichi spoke. “Hang on,” she said. “That's why a lady always carries a flashlight at night.” She withdrew a tiny, pen-like device and clicked a button on the side. A surprisingly bright beam of light shone from the end of the flashlight and illuminated the ground and trees around them.

 

“Man, that's tons better!” Goten remarked. He knelt down next to the footprints in the trail. “You said there were dragon footprints in the flowerbed under Gohan's window, right?” he asked. “These prints look like they could have been made by a dragon.” He pointed out a set of prints with clawed toes.

 

“There are two sets of footprints from people,” Pan remarked. “The larger set is big enough to have been Dad, but the other set is small.”

 

Vegeta eyed the prints critically. “A woman or child, by the looks of it,” he said shortly. “Get moving; it's hard to say what he's gotten himself into this time.”

 

* * *

 

“Haiya Dragon, you need to stay outside,” Gohan admonished. He pointed over the dragon's head back into the yard.

 

The dragon whined and pushed his shoulders against the doorway again, trying to wedge his way inside. After a moment, he cried out and sat back on the step.

 

“I don't mind if he comes inside,” the young woman said, “but I don't want him to hurt himself trying to get through the doorway. I'm afraid it's going to be too small for his body.”

 

Gohan nodded. He gestured for the dragon to remain outside. “I'll be all right,” he reassured. “You stay out there.”

 

The dragon whined again, then circled around the step and finally settled down in a curled position next to it. He heaved a sigh and let his wings droop down alongside his body.

 

“He'll be okay,” the woman said. “I'll have some food and water brought out for him later; I have a feeling he won't be going anywhere without you.” She nodded toward the interior of the house. “Let's get you to bed; the sooner that fever is put in check, the sooner you'll feel better.”

 

Just then, a man with tousled brown hair hurried up to them. In the dim interior light, Gohan was able to make out weathered features and a scarred face that seemed oddly familiar.

 

“Taphone-sama,” he began, “is there anything I can help with?”

 

“Pigero!” she replied. “Good timing. Gohan-san is going to stay the night. He's running a fever and shouldn't be out and about right now.”

 

“Gohan!” Pigero exclaimed.

 

At the same time, Gohan's eyes widened in surprise. “Pigero?” he asked. “Wow, it's been a long time!”

 

Pigero shook his head. “And once again you wash up to be nursed back to health,” he chided. “Ever thought of taking it easy?”

 

Gohan smiled weakly. “That'd be too easy,” he replied. He started to continue, but a wave of dizziness overtook him, and he found himself suddenly being supported by both Taphone and Pigero.

 

“Help me get him to a guest room,” Taphone told Pigero. “I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to catch up once he feels better.”

 

Pigero nodded and lifted Gohan's arm over his shoulders. He and Taphone guided the half-Saiyan down the hall to a small, cozy bedroom. Pigero flipped a switch and warm light illuminated a soft bed covered with a brightly-patterned bed spread.

 

Taphone turned back the covers, and Gohan sighed with relief as Pigero helped him settle onto the cushioned surface.

 

“Thank you,” Gohan said. “I hate to be a burden.”

 

“Not at all,” Taphone replied. “You're not the first person I've found lying out in the cold.” She winked at him and tweaked Pigero's chin gently with her thumb and forefinger. “I'll be back shortly with some juice and a cold pack for that fever.” She stood and walked quickly out the door.

 

Gohan eyed up Pigero as he reclined back on the pillow. “So what happened to you after you dropped me off, anyway?” he asked. “You didn't go to the orphanage with the others?”

 

Pigero shook his head. “No,” he said. “That wasn't for me. They were young enough yet that they still belonged in school and in warm homes. I drifted for a while...got in trouble with the law a few times...I ended up on the wrong side of a bar fight and was face-down in a ditch when Taphone-sama found me.” He closed his eyes and smiled at the memory. “Looking back, it's the best thing that has happened to me. I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I stayed here when she offered.”

 

“Stayed here?” Gohan asked. “You work for her?”

 

Pigero laughed heartily. “Raising triplets _is_ a lot of work, but when they're your own it's totally worth it.” He smiled at the startled look on Gohan's face. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I still call her 'Taphone-sama' out of habit. I keep forgetting that it confuses people as to the nature of our relationship, especially now that the kids are grown and out of the house.”

 

“You're...” Gohan began. “I didn't realize...”

 

Pigero pulled a chair alongside the bed and sat down. “I doubt I'd be alive right now, let alone healthy, happy and in one piece, if she hadn't come along,” he said fondly. “Having a family and a home really settles a guy...but you must have a family too?” he asked. “You seemed a nice enough kid to find a good wife.”

 

Gohan sighed softly and gazed up at the ceiling. “Yeah...” he began. “Yeah, I do. A wife and daughter, and both of them incredible.” He sat up and looked down at his hands. “And it seems that my daughter will be getting married and I'll have a grandchild soon. It shouldn't get happier than this for me.”

 

Pigero noticed the longing gaze as Gohan stared at his hands. “But you're not happy,” he commented. “Even though all the indications are that you should be.”

 

Gohan sighed again. “I've just had a lot come up in my life very suddenly,” he said without elaborating. “And frankly, I'm worried about where some of it is going to take me.” He slumped forward slightly and bowed his head. “Videl deserves better than what I'm giving her.”

 

Pigero set his hand on Gohan's shoulder. “Trust me, Gohan,” he said. “If anyone knows anything about turning around a life after you've screwed up royally, it's me. You're both strong and bright – if you're dedicated to changing, I'm certain you can.”

 

“Also, once you're healthy again, you'll be able to think more clearly,” Taphone said. She walked back into the room carrying a glass of fruit juice and a soft, frosty pack in her hands. She handed them to Gohan. “Here you go,” she said. “These should help you relax so that you can sleep.”

 

“Thanks,” Gohan said appreciatively. He pressed the cold pack to his forehead for a moment, then straightened up to drink the juice. He handed the empty glass back to Taphone and settled back against the pillow again.

 

“If you need the bathroom at all, the door near the foot of your bed is the guest bathroom. Everything you need should be in there.”

 

Gohan nodded sleepily. He rested the cold pack on his forehead and pulled the blankets up around himself, then closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

 

Taphone nodded to Pigero and the two of them quietly left the room. They walked in silence for a few moments. Then, Pigero glanced sideways at Taphone. “Do you plan on keeping this one, too?” he asked.

 

Taphone smiled and tucked a section of loose hair behind her ear. “I'm certain that his wife and family would protest,” she said. “I think you're right; he _can_ turn his life around. It's just going to take some time and reconsideration of priorities.”

 

“You sound confident that he can do that,” Pigero commented.

 

“I've been watching the news,” Taphone replied. “I don't think the people of this planet will let him do otherwise.”

 

Pigero looked at her in surprise. “The news?” he asked. “You mean he's Saiyan? How can you tell?”

 

“He participated in the Cell Game and the 25th Tenkaichi Budokai,” she replied. “Remember the boy with golden hair? He went unnamed in the Cell Game footage, but he appeared again shortly before and during the 25th Tenkaichi Budokai as the 'Great Saiyaman.' It's just easy for people as a whole to forget who their heroes are, especially since there's no footage of the 25th Budokai.”

 

“Is the blond hair a disguise, then?” Pigero asked.

 

“More like a transformation,” Taphone replied. “I've seen other Budokai fighters undergo one transformation or another, though they're usually not human.”

 

Pigero rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Gohan mentioned a 'Videl' when he was talking about his family,” he said. “Wasn't there a young woman named Videl at the 25th Budokai? It seems like she fought just before the tournament was cut short – she was fighting that crazed musclehead...Pogovitch? Something like that.”

 

“Spopovitch,” Taphone corrected. “That was Videl, the daughter of Mr. Satan, the man who has since been the champion of the Tenkaichi Budokai. I would not be surprised if they are one and the same.”

 

Pigero chuckled. “If that's the case, it's no wonder Gohan's worried. That's not the sort of woman one just offends and blows it off.”

 

Taphone reached over and took hold of his earlobe. “Last time I checked, _no_ woman is one to just offend and blow it off.”

 

“Right, right,” Pigero conceded. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “That one was my bad.”

 

Taphone leaned over and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “We should head to bed ourselves,” she said. “I have a feeling we're in for an eventful day tomorrow.”

 

Pigero looked at her quizzically, but she didn't explain further. After a moment, he shrugged and smiled. “You haven't led me wrong yet,” he said. “And bed sounds good right now.”


	19. Chapter 19

Pan pointed toward a shaft of light on the path ahead of them as the group ran forward, following the footprints. “Look, there's light ahead!” she called. “We must be to the end of the forest!”

 

“About time,” Vegeta replied. “It seems we've literally run all night.”

 

Goku frowned, concentrating on the landscape around them as they ran. “I still haven't been able to feel any sign of Gohan,” he said. His brow creased deeper with concern. “He shouldn't have been that far ahead of us,” he said. “I don't know how it is we haven't caught up to him by now.”

 

“This forest doesn't feel right,” Piccolo remarked. “There should be more life energy than this around us.”

 

“What does it mean?” Trunks asked. He glanced quickly at Piccolo.

 

“Nothing good,” Piccolo replied shortly.

 

The group emerged into a grassy plain. The sun was peeking over the horizon before them, and as they turned to scan the area, they spotted an expansive castle behind a tall wall.

 

Piccolo's eyes narrowed. “This must be the source of the problem,” he said. “There is no feeling at all from the castle, but it hardly looks abandoned.”

 

Just then, Haiya Dragon charged through the gates and approached the group. He cried out with a trumpeting roar and ran up to Goku.

 

“Ah, Gohan's dragon!” Goku exclaimed. He reached out and took the dragon's face in his hands. He affectionately rubbed its chin and the sides of its face. Then, equally as suddenly as it'd appeared, the dragon wheeled around and strained toward the horizon, trumpeting in distress.

 

“Hm?” Goku asked. “What is it?”

 

He and the others looked in the direction the dragon was facing. The dragon was relentless with his cries, but nothing seemed to be on the horizon.

 

A voice behind them made them spin back toward the castle. “It would be best if we could locate the source of the dragon's distress,” the woman said. “Gohan does not need his sleep disturbed, and we can hear the dragon inside.”

 

“Who are you?” Vegeta demanded.

 

“I am the owner of this castle,” the woman replied. “I found Gohan unconscious last night and brought him here to heal him. He is sleeping now, but he will not be for long if the dragon continues with its distressed noise.”

 

“How are we supposed to know what that animal's worked up about?” Chichi demanded. “It's always something or another with him!”

 

“No, look!” Goten cut in. “There **is** something!” His eyes widened and he pointed back toward the horizon.

 

As they watched, a formless, dark mass appeared on the horizon. It grew steadily in size until they were able to make out the shape of an approaching army.

 

“Eh? What's this?” Trunks asked. “Some kind of army?”

 

Piccolo's eyes widened as the figures became more distinct. “Not just any army!” he exclaimed. “This army should not be on Earth!” He moved into a defensive posture as the figures drew closer.

 

The others eyed the approaching army warily and went on the defensive themselves.

 

Haiya Dragon roared as the army drew up before them, and the group gathered before the castle increased their defensive posture as the army's hellish nature was revealed.

 

The ogre leader cracked his neck and surveyed the group. “So, our scout was not wrong,” he said. “You _are_ here, Daughter of the Gyu-mao.”

 

Chichi started. “Wh-what?” she gasped.

 

“Where is your father, Girl?” the ogre demanded. “Don't play any games with us, and none of your friends or family here need to get hurt.”

 

“Even if I knew, don't think I'd tell you!” Chichi shouted. “I don't like your attitude in the least!” She raised her arm before her face and deepened the stance of her legs.

 

“Fine, do it the hard way, then,” the ogre sneered. “A bunch of humans and a Namekian – this was hardly worth our time.” He waved behind him in a beckoning gesture. “Send the smart ass up here,” he said. “We'll put him to work; even a weakling like him should be able to handle this rabble.”

 

The ogres shuffled around behind him and Raditz was shoved to the front. The tall Saiyan rolled his eyes as the lead ogre grabbed the front of his armor and dragged him to stand in the front of the mismatched army. “All right, smart guy,” the ogre said. “Make yourself useful and retrieve the girl. Kill the spares if you have to.”

 

Raditz curled his lip disdainfully and turned to look at the opponents he faced. His stomach turned awkwardly as he recognized his little brother standing next to the woman they'd seen in the portraits. A younger man and a girl nearby bore a striking enough resemblance to be related. Then, his eyes fell on familiar upswept hair and dark eyes.

 

He didn't know what to think, but the heaviness he felt in his gut settled and grew as he considered the implications. He didn't stand a chance; even if, by some miracle, Vegeta had not improved at all, he still outmatched Raditz by himself. When paired with Kakarotto, Kakarotto's half-demon wife and his half-Saiyan children, there was no way Raditz would even be able to make an impact.

 

A lump rose in his throat. He hated to admit he was outdone. It always stung his pride to think that he wasn't strong enough to take on a challenge. This time, however, it was also a matter of loyalty. Dead or not, he was not about to turn on his prince for the sake of these ogre slave drivers. He steadied his resolve, and his posture straightened and relaxed. His voice was steady when he spoke.

 

“I refuse.”

 

“**What did you say, you maggot?!**” The ogre before him reddened further with anger and turned furious eyes on Raditz. “**You dare to defy me outright?!**”

 

Raditz closed his eyes and tilted his nose toward the sky. “I am a Saiyan before I am your slave,” he replied. “I will not attack my prince on _your_ orders.”

 

The scowl that had settled into Goku's features upon seeing Raditz suddenly shifted to a look of confusion. He glanced at Vegeta, who crossed his arms on his chest and frowned.

 

“I can't fault him for his pride,” Vegeta grumbled, “but it's certainly not one of the best decisions he's ever made.”

 

Even as he said it, the ogre swung his giant fist against Raditz's head and sent the Saiyan skidding across the grass. Raditz slid to a stop dozens of yards away, face down on the ground. He was unmoving as the ogre turned his attention back to Chichi and her companions.

 

“Well, it seems like at least one of you is the same race as the worthless cretin I just disciplined,” he said. “You've just seen our power; hand over the woman.”

 

Goku scowled again. “If that's your power, then we have nothing to worry about,” he replied. “Chichi ain't got anything to do with you. Leave this place and go back where you belong!”

 

The ogre glared back at him. “The woman has plenty to do with us. Her father is a rebel of the demon world, and he has been too long avoiding retribution from us. If he chooses to continue hiding from us, then we will extract our revenge through his daughter!”

 

“What are you talking about?” Chichi demanded. “My papa runs from no one! It ain't his fault if you're too dumb to find him!”

 

The ogre laughed. “We've been to your father's castle. Where do you think he amassed all of that wealth and power, little princess?” he demanded. “Did you think that he'd gotten it all through honest work?”

 

Chichi's brow furrowed in anger. “My papa is loved and respected in our village!” she said. “I know he did lots of bad things before, but that's not who he is now! So it don't matter what you say he was!”

 

“Hn, stubborn girl,” the ogre muttered. “How you delude yourself is of no matter to me. But your loyalty to your father tells me that I am right – if we have you, he will stop the ridiculous game and come to us.”

 

Goten and Pan moved forward toward Chichi and Goku. “Too bad,” said Goten. “You're not getting even close to her.”

 

“Kids,” the ogre spat. He pointed to one of the lower-ranking ogres next to him. “You, take care of these brats.”

 

“Yes, Sir, oni,” the ogre replied. He raised his fists before him and strode forward.

 

Before the ogre was ever able to swing, however, a blast from the side sent him flying backward, and he landed on his back at the feet of the ogre leader. Goku, Goten, Chichi and Pan turned their heads to see Piccolo standing to the side with his hand raised before him. Piccolo moved his eyes from the ogre to them very briefly before speaking.

 

“You Saiyans needn't extend yourselves to fight these small fry,” he said. “I can handle this.”

 

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and studied Piccolo critically for a moment. Then, the realization hit him, and he called over to the others. “He's right,” he said. “There's no reason for any of us to raise our ki for garbage like this.”

 

Goku looked confused for a moment, but he stepped backward slightly, drawing Chichi back with him. “Yeah, I suppose so,” he said slowly.

 

The ogre leader clenched his fists angrily. “Make light of us, will you?” he shot back. “You -” he turned to issue new orders, only to find the rest of the ogres and damned souls glancing fearfully between the fallen Raditz and the fallen ogre splayed out on the ground. His anger grew.

 

“Worthless cowards!” he raged. “What good are you?! It's fortunate that I suspected this might happen and arranged for backup!”

 

Piccolo's attention snapped immediately back to the ogre, and the others' eyes followed. They watched as the ogre dropped his pack to the ground and drew a round device out of it. He turned a dial on the device and spoke into it. “I'm opening the gate,” he said. “Are our new allies still willing to hold up their end of the bargain?”

 

“Yes, Sir, oni,” a voice said from the device. “Quite eager, actually, oni.”

 

“Good,” the leader replied. “Send them here.”

 

A brilliant white light suddenly illuminated the ground around them. As they squinted against the glare, the group was able to make out several figures leaping and moving hurriedly about the center of the glow. When the light faded, the new recruits turned to face the Saiyans and their families.

 

A collective gasp of surprise rose from both sides. “**You!**”

 

Vegeta uttered an annoyed hiss and stepped up closer to Goku. “We need to settle this immediately, Kakarotto,” he said quietly. “But we'll have to work together; we can't risk raising our ki for this.”

 

Piccolo shook angrily as he stepped up to join them. “This is a disaster waiting to happen,” he growled.

 

Goten glanced over at Goku. “Dad?” he asked. “What's up? These guys don't seem all that great.”

 

Trunks echoed the sentiment. “Yeah, what's the big deal?” he asked. “Who are these punks, anyway? Someone from Hell?”

 

A sharp intake of breath from one of their opponents caught their attention. “You...you're that boy,” Freeza said. “That miserable other Super Saiyan – don't pretend that you don't remember me, Boy. _No one _forgets Freeza-sama.”

 

Vegeta's lip curled. “Trunks,” he said in a low voice. “Watch yourself. He's mistaken you for your future counterpart; without raising our ki, Freeza will be a difficult foe.”

 

Trunks's lip curled in a mirror of his father's expression. “Then I'll just have to make sure that he doesn't make that mistake again,” he said. He lowered his gaze to fix Freeza with an icy stare.

 

Freeza trembled slightly and took a step backward. “Well, Cell-san,” he said, “you've always bragged you certainly could kill the boy who destroyed me. This is your chance – the very boy stands right there.” He raised his hand and pointed definitively at Trunks.

 

Cell glanced toward Trunks and raised his eyebrow. “_That_ boy?” he asked disdainfully. “I was certain I'd killed him once already...but no matter. It's an easy enough thing to repeat.” He raised his own hand and began to ready a blast.

 

Vegeta suddenly leaped forward with a ki blast of his own to Cell's face. “No!” he shouted.

 

Cell smirked as the smoke from the blast settled around his shoulders. “Vegeta, what was that?” he asked lazily. “Is it possible you've gotten weaker yet from what you were when I fought you?”

 

Vegeta growled angrily as he weighed his options. Before he could reply, Goku replied for him.

 

“It's better to put them away quickly,” he told Piccolo and Vegeta. “We can't play around here. They don't belong up here on Earth.” He brought his arms up before him and began to power up.

 

“Son!” Piccolo shouted.

 

Vegeta began to power up himself before suddenly slumping to the ground beside Goku. “Dammit, Kakarotto, I told you not to power up!” He shouted.

 

On the other side of Goku, Goten also fell to the ground. “W-what?” he asked in surprise. He looked down in confusion at his hands. “I've suddenly lost my strength.”

 

Trunks collapsed next to him. “This has to be why Father and Piccolo didn't want us to fight with our ki raised,” he said. “I lost my energy as Goku-san powered up.”

 

Goku looked around him in confusion and his ki settled back down to its normal state. “What's going on?” he asked in alarm.

 

“Kakarotto, you idiot,” Vegeta spat. “Our condition still isn't over with, remember? Just because we managed to be mostly normal during the night – the sun is not only rising, but you just spiked your power above all of ours suddenly!”

 

Goku looked around uneasily. “Damn,” he said. “I can't take a chance that one of them won't take a shot at any of you if I try to deal with all of them myself.”

 

Freeza, King Cold, Cell and the Ginyu Special Corps watched the exchange with interest. “It seems this deal has been exceptionally fortunate for us,” Cell said. “There appears to be something wrong with the Saiyans.”

 

Freeza considered the situation, then chuckled. He smirked dangerously at Vegeta before turning his attention to Cell. “If you'd be so good as to keep Son Goku occupied, Cell-san,” he began, “I would like to enjoy some fun with Vegeta. I can take care of the lavender-haired boy and the others at my leisure.”

 

“You'll do no such thing!”

 

Vegeta turned his head in alarm at the voice. As he feared, Bra was striding purposefully forward with a dangerous look in her eye. “I don't care who you are. Your ki is evil, and you will never set a hand on my father.”

 

“Bra, don't!” Vegeta began.

 

Freeza gazed evenly at Bra for a moment. “Vegeta has a child, does he?” he asked. “And a girl child, no less.” He frowned. “Tsch. And after I worked so hard to ensure that he didn't have any spawn. What an annoyance.” He watched Bra's dedicated approach. “At least she seems to have inherited her father's stubbornly reckless streak; Saiyans are so predictable.”

 

Goku turned his attention back to their opponents. “There must be a way-” he began.

 

Before he could finish speaking, ki flared next to him and Pan's black hair flew upward in golden spikes. She charged forward toward Cell, and her foot connected solidly with the side of his head. Cell, stunned by the unexpected attack, stumbled backward, reeling from the kick.

  
At the same time, Bra leaped into the air. Her ki also skyrocketed, and her long, aquamarine hair spread outward in a golden-spiked halo. Vegeta gaped at her as she leaped over him and Goku to land a two-footed assault on Freeza's face and torso.

 

“Wh-when did she-” Vegeta stammered.

 

Bra and Pan leaped backward to land side-by-side in front of Goku.

 

“Grandpa!” Pan exclaimed. “I don't understand why, but even though your energy is hurting the others, I still feel great. I'll help you take on these punks!”

 

“Same here,” Bra said. “We'll keep the rabble busy while you take out the toughest targets. This Freeza guy isn't that tough.”

 

Before Goku could respond, a new voice echoed above them. “**Thunder -**”

 

Goku's eyes widened in recognition of the voice. He grabbed Bra and Pan by the back of their collars and dragged them with him as he dove backward, also tackling Chichi to the ground. “Hit the ground!” he shouted to the others.

 

Piccolo and the rest of their group heard the urgency in his voice and dove with him to the ground, not a second too soon.

 

“**Flash!**” The blast of raging flames roared across the clearing and through the ogre army, including Freeza and his allies. Only the latter remained standing as the flames cleared to reveal the charred forms left behind. Paikuhan was instantly on the remaining fighters; his elbows felled Freeza and his father a fraction of a second before his spinning legs dropped the Ginyu Special Corps and his fist slammed into Cell's midsection. As Cell dropped to the ground unconscious, he turned to look at Goku.

 

Goku looked up as the flames dissipated and met Paikuhan's eyes. “Paikuhan!” he called joyfully. “This is a great help! But, how is it that you are here on Earth?”

 

“I'm here for Kaio-sama,” Paikuhan said. “Enma Daio-sama asked for assistance putting down these troublemakers. They gave me a bit of a run-around, but I got permission to follow them to Earth to clean them up.”

 

“Eh?” Goku asked. “But this isn't West Kaio-sama's quadrant, is it?” he asked. “I wonder why Kaio-sama didn't say anything to me about it; I could have probably taken care of them as soon as they showed up on Earth.”

 

Paikuhan hesitated. He stepped closer to Goku and lowered his voice. “I don't know for sure what is happening,” he said, “but there is something strange happening in the other world. West Kaio-sama has been in meetings with the others several times as of late, and Dai Kaio-sama recently called them together as well.” He paused and glanced around before he continued. “In addition, I think that they may have some kind of concerns about Saiyans; West Kaio-sama and I met another god of some sort leading two Saiyans through Enma Daio-sama's office, and he seemed rather angry about it.”

 

“What's this?” Vegeta struggled to his feet and stood next to Goku. “What other two Saiyans?”

 

“They greatly resembled the two of you,” Paikuhan said. “I think the woman with them called them 'Bardock' and 'Vegeta' – the one named Bardock seemed to know you, Goku-san.”

 

Vegeta scowled. “He's Kakarotto's father,” he said. “And the other is _my_ father. Do you know where they were destined?”

 

Paikuhan shook his head. “Not with certainty,” he replied. She said that they were being restored to life somewhere in North Kaio-sama's quadrant, but did not specify when or where. She was taking them to her planet in the meantime, I believe.”

 

Vegeta ground his teeth. Before he could question Paikuhan further, West Kaio's voice broke into the conversation.

 

“Paikuhan!” West Kaio called sternly. “Enma Daio is ready to receive those troublemakers; it's time for you to return as well.”

 

Paikuhan looked upward toward the sound. “Yes, Kaio-sama,” he replied. He started back toward the fallen army, then stopped and looked back at Goku and Vegeta. He frowned slightly and looked at the ground, then raised his eyes again to look Goku directly in the eyes. “Goku-san,” he said, “be careful.” With that, he turned away from the Saiyans again. As he approached the fallen ogres and souls, the ground around them glowed briefly, then all of them vanished.


	20. Chapter 20

Raditz groaned. He'd expected the blow in retaliation for outright defiance, but it didn't lessen the impact. He opened his eyes and turned his head slowly to peer at the warriors preparing for battle. He was blinded momentarily by an intense glow, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the light. When he opened them again, a slight human woman was kneeling next to him with a pack he recognized as belonging to the ogre army.

 

Raditz stirred and rolled onto his back to look at her. “What-” he began.

 

The woman pursed her lips and gestured for him to be silent. She dug through the contents of the bag and finally withdrew a dark glass vial from its depths. “Fantastic,” she muttered. “They brought it with them, as I thought they might.”

 

Raditz narrowed his eyes, but before he could question her, he was distracted by a familiar voice that chilled him to the bone. He turned terrified eyes on Freeza.

 

“Shh,” the woman soothed. She took Raditz's chin in her hand and pressed the opened end of the vial to his lips. “They're preoccupied with each other; as long as we're quiet, they won't notice. Quickly, drink this, while you have the chance.”

 

_Gods, what now? _Raditz wondered. _Haven't I been through enough? _His eyes roamed over the face-off once more and then returned to the vial at his mouth. He hesitated only a moment, then released a slow, resigned sigh. He decided he had nothing to lose. Raditz closed his eyes and tilted the vial back into his mouth to swallow the contents.

 

Pain suddenly rocketed through his body, and he curled up on his side. He started to wonder what it was he'd given himself up to, but his thoughts were immediately interrupted.

 

“The pain will subside in only a few moments,” the woman said. “Try to lie still.”

 

Raditz blinked in surprise as the woman suddenly crouched low to the ground beside him, and the surprise was magnified as the roar of a fiery blast echoed over their heads. As the blast died away, the two of them looked back toward the battle to see the carnage.

 

Raditz gaped for a moment. He struggled to sit up; sharp jabs ran through his nerves, but after only a moment, he made it to his feet. He shielded his eyes as the ground nearby suddenly glowed again, but the light disappeared quickly, and with it, the army that had brought him.

 

He turned his attention back to the remaining fighters. With the enemy dispatched and sent back to Hell, they were now regarding him with a certain degree of surprise and suspicion. Raditz wasn't certain how he felt about the entire situation. Seeing his brother alive again was painful enough, but seeing that Vegeta was alive but hadn't revived _him _was almost more painful.

 

Goku frowned as he studied Raditz. “Why's he still here?” he demanded. “All of the others went back with Paikuhan.”

 

“Kakarotto...” Vegeta said. He sighed in annoyance. “Take a closer look. He didn't return because he's not dead anymore.”

 

“Eh?!” Goku's gaze flew to the top of Raditz's head and he realized that the halo was missing from its perch above the spikes of black hair.

 

Raditz and Taphone walked up to stand in front of them. “It's those ogres' fault for bringing trouble here, and then being fool enough to bring life-restoring potion with them to the battle,” Taphone said. “They deserved to lose the soul.”

 

Raditz gazed steadily at his brother for a moment, then turned his eyes to Vegeta. He dropped to one knee before the smaller Saiyan and brought his hand to his chest in allegiance. “Vegeta-sama.”

 

“Hn!” Vegeta replied. “It seems Hell has calmed you. I expected a tantrum.”

 

Raditz frowned and locked his eyes on the ground at Vegeta's feet. “I've had plenty of time to think and to expend my excess energy, Vegeta-sama,” he said.

 

The others walked up behind Goku and Vegeta to peer curiously at Raditz. Bulma frowned, but before she could speak, Pan cut in.

 

“Grandpa, who is this?” she asked. “He's Saiyan, right? I thought we were the only Saiyans left.”

 

Raditz's eyes widened and his eyebrow twitched as he looked from Pan to Goku. “_Grandpa?_” he asked. “Kakarotto, you rat! How long have I been in Hell?”

 

Vegeta interrupted the conversation before an argument could start. “Raditz is Kakarotto's older brother,” he said. “He's been dead since Gohan was a small child.”

 

“Eh?” Pan asked in surprise. “I didn't know you had an older brother, Grandpa.”

 

Raditz's hand curled into a fist and he squeezed his eyes shut as though to block out the insult. “Kakarotto...it's not bad enough that you aided that Namekian in killing me...you add insult to the injury by disowning me and never even mentioning your own brother to your family!”

 

“I told you before, I ain't got a brother!” Goku shot back.

 

“Kakarotto!” Vegeta cut in sharply again. “That's enough! We're not here to argue with your brother - we're here to find Gohan and bring him home.”

 

“Please, join me inside,” Taphone said. “I will see if Gohan is awake; with all the noise out here, I'm sure he must be.”

 

Haiya Dragon ran ahead of the group as they walked through the gate to the castle. He leaped around the front step anxiously, crying out with a keening wail.

 

Taphone rubbed his chin as she stepped into the doorway. “Sorry, Friend,” she said. “The door's no bigger than it was last night. I'm sure you'll get to see Gohan soon.”

 

Pigero hurried up to the group as they walked into the front room. “Taphone-sama!” he said worriedly, “Are you all right?”

 

“I'm fine, Pigero,” Taphone replied. “You needn't worry about me. How is Gohan doing?”

 

“He's awake, but his fever hasn't gone down much. He seemed to know that his family is here - he was concerned about having to see all of them at once.”

 

“That's understandable, with how he's been feeling overnight,” Taphone replied. “Did you take him some breakfast?”

 

Pigero nodded. “We have plenty of juice left, if our guests would like to sit for a moment and have something to drink. I'll see if Gohan feels more like talking to someone once he's had a bite to eat.”

 

“Oh, that's not necessary!” Bulma said hurriedly. “These guys have endless stomachs - we couldn't possibly impose...”

 

“It's no problem,” Taphone assured her. “I know impatience when I see it; the least I can do is provide some refreshments for the inconvenience.”

 

Goku's stomach growled loudly before anyone could reply. He laughed and scratched the back of his head. “Well, we _did _miss breakfast this morning,” he said.

 

Taphone nodded to Pigero, and he hurried out of the room. She nodded toward a plush couch and chairs in front of a large window. “Please, make yourselves at home,” she said. “Pigero will return shortly; I'll see how Gohan feels in the meantime - I'm certain all of you will want to see him as soon as possible.”

 

Vegeta snorted in disdain as Taphone exited the room. “As if we have the time for niceties right now,” he said. “That boy is going to have some serious explaining to do.”

 

“Probably sooner than later,” Goten said uneasily. He glanced around the room as he spoke. “Piccolo's disappeared somewhere; ten zeni says that he's gone to find Gohan himself.”

 

“Eh?” Videl exclaimed. She looked quickly around the room herself. “I wonder if he found a solution at Kami-sama's palace after all,” she said. “I was kind of surprised that we ran into him searching for Gohan.”

 

“Kami-sama's?” Goten asked. “What did he expect to find there?”

 

“I'm not sure,” Videl said. “Before he left for work, Gohan told me that he'd spoken with Piccolo during the afternoon and that Piccolo thought he might be worse off because of something Rou Kaioshin did to him. He thought that if that were the case, there might be some kind of a solution at Kami-sama's palace.”

 

“As long as it's nothing that complicates our lives further,” Vegeta grumbled. “The interferences in our lives have been annoying enough already, and now we have another Saiyan thrown into the mix.” He nodded toward Raditz.

 

Raditz frowned and crossed his arms, but didn't reply. He let his gaze linger on Vegeta for a moment before turning his attention to Goku and his family. He considered them carefully.

 

“You must be Kakarotto's second son,” he said finally. He fixed his eyes on Goten and scrutinized his features. “Gohan was the name of the boy who helped defeat me so long ago, and it would seem he is elsewhere at the moment; however, you are a dead ringer for your father and grandfather.”

 

Goku started to reply, but Goten waved him off. “I am,” Goten said. “My name is Goten.” He paused. “By 'grandfather,' you must mean my dad's father; I'm nothing like my mom's father.”

 

“I do,” Raditz replied. “It was how I easily recognized your father when I first came here - the resemblance is uncanny with both of you fully grown.”

 

“What was he like?” Goten asked curiously. He perched himself carefully on the arm of the couch and watched Raditz with interest. “Aside from how he looked, of course.”

 

Goku frowned. “Goten, it doesn't matter-” he began.

 

“Kakarotto, stuff it!” Raditz shouted. “Even if _you're _not interested in your family, my nephew is.”

 

Goku started to offer a retort, but Vegeta cut in. “Can it, Kakarotto,” he said. “It looks like we're going to be here a while anyway; it's not going to hurt anything for Raditz to talk about your father. If anything, it might do _you _some good.”

 

Goku frowned again, but remained silent.

 

Raditz turned away from Goku and focused on Goten once again. “There's not a lot to say, I suppose,” he said. “He was born third-class, like the rest of us. He left home a bit younger than most do, but he'd already started putting together a crew of his own by then. I heard it was a result of some kind of dispute with his father. I don't know all of the details, because Father didn't talk about it much, but it seems like he got into one fight too many and Grandfather kicked him out. It's not all that surprising - he loved a good fight, and he was stubborn to the core.” He closed his eyes and smiled at some untold memory. “Mother used to say that he was stubborn as a duiqe and twice as stupid. I don't know about that last bit...he got through some scrapes that took out higher-class warriors than himself.”

 

“But it's the power level that makes the difference, isn't it?” Goten asked. “I mean...what does it matter if they're higher class if they're not stronger?”

 

Raditz looked confused at the question. Vegeta interjected. “Before we came to Earth, it was unheard of for a warrior to exceed the expectations of their class,” he said. “Our rank was determined by our power at birth. Only those of us here have gone beyond those limits.”

 

“Then...that's how Kakarotto's power - and that Namekian's power - were able to increase so much during their battle,” Raditz said. He scowled and balled his hand into a fist. “I can't believe I didn't make the connection...the only thing the two of them had in common was that they were both aliens to this stupid little world.” He folded his arms and looked at the floor. “I let myself get too distracted by the brat's outburst. When I realized that _his _power changed with his emotions, I let my attention on Kakarotto and the Namekian go entirely.”

 

“It likely has something to do with it,” Vegeta said. “It doesn't hurt that Kakarotto, Piccolo and the rest of us have also had drive to keep pushing our limits. Gohan, and the other children, had exceptional power from birth. After you were killed, I realized mixing Saiyan and Earthling blood created powerful offspring.”

 

“So that's it, is it?” Raditz asked. He leaned against the wall in thought. “All those years of busting our asses to nudge our power levels upward and these half-Earthling kids are _born _with impossible power.”

 

Just then, Pigero returned to the room with a tray of drinks in his hands. “Sorry for the delay,” he said. “It's not often that I need to find this many glasses at one time.” He handed them clear glasses filled with pale orange juice.

 

“Thank you for going to the trouble for us,” Bulma said. She took a large drink from her glass. “Wow, this is delicious!”

 

Encouraged by Bulma's compliment, the others also drank. Pigero started to collect the empty glasses from them, but the sound of breaking glass behind him suddenly caught everyone's attention.

 

Tullece was staring at the dripping remains of broken glass in his clenched hand. His hand trembled visibly as he uncurled his fingers and dropped the fragments of glass on the floor.

 

“Eh?” Pan asked. “What's wrong?”

 

Tullece's voice cracked as he spoke. “Shinseiju,” he said hoarsely. “It's from the Shinseiju fruit.”

 

“Shinseiju?” Videl asked. “What's that?”

 

Goku scowled. “It's a tree that grows fruit in the gods' realm,” he said. “The Shinseiju planted here on Earth died long ago and took its fruit with it.” He glared at Tullece.

 

“I know the taste of the fruit, Moron!” Tullece shot back. “Once you've eaten from the Shinseiju, you never forget the taste. Every other fruit pales in comparison. No other food fulfills cravings like it.” He opened and closed his hands several times. “Feel the power surge in your blood, if you don't believe me, Dumbass.”

 

“He's right,” Trunks said. “I do feel a _lot _better than I did during the battle outside.”

 

“Well, whatever it does, it must only work on Saiyans,” Bulma said. She sighed dejectedly and sat back on the couch. “I feel the same as always.” She looked over at Chichi, who was sitting across from her. “How about you, Chichi -” Her voice cut off short and she stared at the younger woman.

 

Chichi returned the startled look. “Bulma, you -” she began.

 

“Chichi, you -” Bulma said at the same time.

 

The two women scrambled through their pockets for a moment. “Of all the times to be without a mirror,” Bulma complained.

 

The two of them spotted their reflections in the glass of the window behind them at the same time, and they leaned over the back of the couch to examine themselves.

 

“Amazing!” Chichi said. “It's...it's taken years off of me!”

 

“What?” Videl asked in surprise. She quickly moved in to join Chichi and Bulma. “Mother, what do you mean?”

 

Chichi pulled Videl up to the window. “Look, it's worked on you, too!” she said excitedly.

 

Videl touched her face with surprise as she looked at her reflection, then stared agape at Chichi and Bulma as well. “Did...did it do the same for the others, I wonder?” she asked.

 

Bulma folded her arms across her chest. “Well, there's no way to tell, I suppose,” she said. “Being as they didn't age nearly as fast as we did...” Her sentence trailed off as she spotted a brown tail swinging in agitation behind Goku.

 

The Saiyans seemed to have realized the change in themselves at the same time. Trunks and Goten suddenly grinned mischievously and knocked their knuckles against each other.

 

“Sweet!” Trunks said in elation. “I don't even remember having a tail! I wonder what we can do with them?” His tail swung excitedly behind him and came within inches of hitting Vegeta's face.

 

“You can wrap it around your waist and leave it there!” Vegeta snapped. His own tail was settling comfortably into place around the waist of his pants. “No son of mine is going to be going around waving his tail in peoples' faces!”

 

Trunks hastily grabbed his wayward appendage and tucked it around his waist the way Vegeta's was. “Sorry.” He blushed red across his cheeks.

 

“Still,” Bulma said, “I thought the Shinseiju fruit only increased a person's power level. How is this even possible?”

 

“The Shinseiju restores the person who eats of it to the peak of their vitality,” Taphone said. She walked up to the group. “Gohan's tail was restored by the juice as well. Even an old and healed injury like that can be restored to full health.” She knelt down to pick up the pieces of broken glass at Tullece's feet. “The increase in strength that some of you seem to have felt may be because you haven't reached the peak of your potential yet.”

 

Tullece eyed the petite woman as she stood and carefully set the shards of glass on Pigero's tray. “What would you know of the Shinseiju, Woman?” he demanded.

 

Chichi, more intent on the issue of Gohan, interrupted. “Gohan's awake, then?” she asked. “Is he all right?”

 

“He seems to be doing as well as he can be, considering his fever,” Taphone replied. “Piccolo was rather insistent on seeing him alone, and Gohan agreed to it.”

 

“That Namekian again!” Chichi complained.

 

Videl suddenly put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. Chichi looked at her in concern. “Videl, what is it?”

 

“I think...Gohan's calling for me,” she said. “I can hear his voice, but...it's like it's inside my head.”

 

“He wanted only you to hear him,” Vegeta commented. “Probably to keep everyone else from rushing to see him as well.”

 

Taphone held out her hand to Videl. “I'll show you to his room,” she said. “Follow me.”

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gohan's family dynamics are changing, at a time when a media frenzy destabilizes their situation.

Piccolo groaned and gripped the window sill as he looked out on the lawn and forest behind the castle. The idyllic scenery couldn't distract him from either the pain in his chest or the worry in Gohan's voice.

 

Gohan balled his hands into fists and gripped the blanket in his lap. He bit his lower lip and was silent for a moment then swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. “I can't just stay in bed,” he said. “If I can't help you directly, then I'm going to find someone who can.”

 

Piccolo glanced over his shoulder at Gohan. “I already told you, this will resolve itself...sooner, rather than later.” He winced and bit back another groan. “I'm not going to explain it twice; the rest will wait until Videl arrives.”

 

“Piccolo-san...” Gohan fell silent and looked at the floor. If there was anything his years of training had taught him, it was that his mentor would not give up any information he wasn't ready to. It didn't make it any less frustrating for him as he struggled with watching Piccolo suffer. His tail snapped with agitation behind him, betraying his inner emotions.

 

He was distracted from his frustration as the door opened and Videl and Taphone entered. Videl rushed across the room to his side.

 

“Gohan!” she cried. “Are you all right?”

 

“I'm fine,” Gohan replied. He tried to keep his voice even. “Piccolo, on the other hand, is not.” He turned back to look at Piccolo, and Videl turned with him.

 

“I'll...be fine soon enough,” Piccolo said. His voice was gravelly and halting. “I've...dragged this out too...too long; that's the only reason I'm...in such pain now.”

 

“Dragged _what_ out too long, Piccolo?” Gohan demanded. “What's wrong?”

 

“You haven't...noticed?” Piccolo asked. Irritation was tinging his voice. “You haven't noticed...that your...fever has cleared?”

 

“My fever?” Gohan straightened in surprise. “I-I hadn't thought about it. I guess...I do feel better. But what-”

 

His question never finished. In that moment, Piccolo doubled over to his knees. His head rolled back, and a massive, white egg erupted from his throat, pushing free of his mouth before tumbling out to the floor. Piccolo sagged backward as it rolled in a semi-circle near Gohan's feet.

 

“Piccolo-san!” Gohan exclaimed. He rushed to the Namekian's side. “Piccolo-san, are you all right?”

 

Piccolo didn't answer for a moment. He leaned forward and caught his breath; then, he carefully stood and narrowed his eyes at Gohan. “I'm fine,” he said. “My ordeal is over.” He glared at the egg resting on the floor.

 

Gohan followed his gaze and stared at the egg for a moment, then looked back at Piccolo. “That egg...” he began.

 

“Is our child,” Piccolo finished. “The egg will hatch soon enough; this is how all Namekians are born, including me.”

 

Even as he said it, fine cracks appeared on the surface of the egg and spread around its circumference. Within seconds, green fingers pried through the crack and the top half of the egg lifted and fell away.

 

Gohan and Videl peered into the egg; large, dark eyes framed by green skin and black hair peered back at them. After a moment, a brown, furry tail uncurled and waved over the top of the egg shell. 

 

“He...he reminds me of you,” Videl stammered. “I mean, he's certainly still Namekian, but...”

 

Piccolo stepped up next to the egg and lifted the infant out. The baby peered at Piccolo for a moment then began to cry.

 

“Yes,” Piccolo agreed. “He's half-Namekian, but he definitely takes after you.” He handed the baby to Gohan and started to walk away.

 

“Piccolo-san, wait!” Gohan said. “I...I know you don't want to look at me right now, but -”

 

Piccolo stopped and glanced over his shoulder at Gohan. “Your family is waiting to mob you when you walk out there,” he said. “I have no interest in being a part of that.”

 

Gohan held his baby close to his chest. “His name, at least, Piccolo-san?” he asked. “I want you to be a part of his life.”

 

Piccolo paused, then looked away again. “Reed,” he said, as he walked away. “He _is_ a part of the Daimao clan, after all.”

 

Gohan held Reed close for a moment longer; he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, taking in the scent of his baby's hair as his cries subsided. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Videl watching him, uncertainty written on her face.

 

“Videl,” Gohan began, “would you like to hold him?” 

 

“No,” Videl replied. She looked at her feet for a moment then looked back up at Gohan. “Well...that's...I would.” She hesitated and bit her lip before continuing. “But...is it okay? I mean...I'm...” She looked away from him. “I'm not his mother.”

 

Gohan reached out with one hand and drew her close. He wrapped both her and Reed in an embrace. “You're a great mother, Videl,” he said. “And Reed's going to appreciate that.” He paused. “I think it's going to be obvious to everyone who Reed's birth parents are, but that doesn't mean you can't be part of his life.”

 

Just then, Taphone stepped back into the room. She handed Gohan a small, soft blanket, along with a bag of baby clothes. “Here you go,” she said with a smile. “Consider it a gift from me and Pigero; ours have long since outgrown them.”

 

“Thank you,” Gohan said appreciatively. He quickly wrapped Reed in the blanket and handed him to Videl, then slung the bag around his arm. “We should go see the others; I'm sure my parents, at least, are starting to get impatient.” 

 

“If you're ready,” Taphone said gently. “I wasn't sure you would be feeling up to it, so I made no promises that you were well yet.”

 

“I am,” Gohan said. “Thanks to Piccolo-san.” He looked pensively at Reed for a moment, then he and Videl followed Taphone back to the front of the castle.

 

Pan was the first to look up from the conversation as they walked in. “Daddy!” she called. She dashed across the room to Gohan and Videl. “Are you feeling better?”

 

Gohan smiled softly. “I am,” he said. “And I should be good from here on out, hopefully.” He nodded toward the baby in Videl's arms.

 

Pan tilted her head to look at Reed. “A baby?” she asked.

 

“Your little brother,” Gohan replied. “I wanted to introduce you right away.”

 

Pan's face lit up with excitement. “A baby brother!” she exclaimed. Behind her, a chorus of “What?!” echoed across the room.

 

Reed began to whimper, and Gohan quickly moved to cover his ears. “_Quietly_, please,” he pleaded. “His ears are likely much more sensitive than ours.”

 

Vegeta snorted and looked out the window. “Namekian ears usually are,” he said.

 

“N-Namekian?” Chichi stammered. “What do you mean?” 

 

Gohan sighed. “He means Reed is half-Namekian,” he said. “Piccolo's child.”

 

Chichi's expression froze in a mixture of shock and consternation. “Pi-Piccolo's...” she began. Then, she fainted.

 

“Chichi!” Goku exclaimed. He caught her as she dropped toward the floor and lowered her into a chair. Goten found a magazine on a nearby table and fanned her.

 

“Oh, Grandma,” Pan sighed. She turned back to Gohan and Videl. “But, he's so _cute_, Daddy!” she said. “Can I hold him?”

 

Gohan smiled with relief. “Yes,” he said. “I'd like that.”

 

Videl handed Reed to Pan, who carefully cradled him in her arms. Bra dashed over to look at him, and the two of them cooed gleefully at the baby, who gurgled in response.

 

Gohan watched the two of them a moment before letting his attention drift to the others in the room. His gaze moved briefly to Tullece, and he frowned. The Saiyan was scowling at his hand and seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, and Gohan didn't feel like confronting him. As he moved his attention away, however, he noticed Raditz leaning against the wall, glaring out the window. Gohan felt his temper rising, and he took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

 

Videl noticed his change in mood. “Gohan?” she asked quietly.

 

Gohan nodded toward Raditz. “My uncle, Raditz,” he replied. “Though how he's alive and standing here, I don't know.”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Videl said. “There was kind of a lot that happened all at once that we'll need to get you filled in on. Raditz-san coming back to life was part of it.”

 

Raditz seemed to realize the conversation had turned to him, and he glanced in their direction. He sized Gohan up for a moment. “You're not as much of a runt as you used to be,” he finally said.

 

“I'm also not a toddler anymore,” Gohan replied thinly.

 

Raditz pushed himself away from the wall and walked up to stand in front of Gohan. The two stared at each other in silence for a moment; then, Raditz turned his attention briefly to Pan and Reed. He considered Videl for a moment before turning his attention back to Gohan.

 

“So, the Namekian who killed me to save you gave you a child,” he commented. “Fair enough.” He flipped a stray lock of his hair over his shoulder as he turned to walk away.

 

Gohan stared after him in disbelief. “Is that all you have to say?” he demanded.

 

Raditz paused, then looked back over his shoulder at Gohan. “Is there anything else that needs to be said?” he asked. “You obviously were better off here on Earth than we were with Freeza. I now understand why Vegeta-sama stayed here as well.” He returned to his spot near the window and fell silent.

 

Gohan studied him though narrowed eyes for a moment. Before he could reply, Bulma's phone jangled brightly and broke the awkward silence.

 

Bulma's eyebrows raised in surprise as she recognized the ringtone. As it looped back to the start, she answered. “Sis!” she said. “What's up?”

 

She was only quiet a moment. “No, I'm not at home,” Bulma said. “Why?” Bulma frowned as she listened to Tights, and the others grew concerned at her deepening expression. “Dammit,” Bulma cursed, half under her breath. Then she spoke up. “I'm fine, and we'll be fine,” she said. “Thanks for calling.” She listened again. “No, I wouldn't call Jaco; at the moment, he's probably the _last_ one we want involved.” After another minute, she continued. “I will,” she said. “Thanks. I'll call later.”

 

Bulma clicked her phone closed and frowned at it before looking up at the others. “West Capitol is apparently a zoo around Capsule Corp,” she said. “Someone tipped off the media that 'The World's Most Eligible Bachelor' bought an engagement ring for Mister Satan's granddaughter?” She raised an eyebrow as she looked at Trunks. 

 

Trunks scowled and rubbed the back of his neck in irritation. “Ugh, dickweeds,” he grumbled. “I didn't think they were following us that soon.”

 

Chichi groaned and struggled to sit up. “Wh-what?” she asked groggily. “An engagement ring?” 

 

“Right,” Pan, said. She handed Reed back to Gohan and held out her hand for the others to see the ring more clearly. “Well...we only know one solution to our problem right now, and it seems unlikely that's going to change in the near future. Trunks and I thought it'd be better to take care of formalities right away.”

 

“Pan, are you sure?” Videl asked. “I mean...” She put her hand on the side of her face as she thought about her next words. “I know I met your dad when we were in high school, and we were married not long after, but...”

 

“It's all right, Mom,” Pan said. “I'm basically done with school anyway, right? I mean, I passed all my exams, I just have to cruise a couple months until the school year's officially done.”

 

Gohan rubbed his forehead. “Which, with the way things are going, is going to happen from home, anyway,” he said. He sighed. “I don't object,” he said. “Trunks is a good kid.” He glanced at Trunks. “Well, a good thirty-something, actually,” he continued. “As long as he keeps that in mind.”

 

Trunks scratched the back of his head and looked at the floor for a moment before he raised his eyes to look at Gohan again. “Yeah, I will,” he said.

 

“Anyway,” Videl began, “if the media is swarming around Capsule Corp over this, I expect it won't be long before Papa -”

 

Her sentence cut off as her cellphone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and answered. “Hello?”

 

Videl sighed. “Yes, Papa, I know.” Gohan and Pan watched with increasing worry as she listened at length to her father speaking. “I know, we will...yes, we heard.” She paused. “Love you too, Papa.” 

 

She sighed again as she hung up. “They swarmed around Papa's house, as I expected,” Videl said. “But, he's used to dealing with the media. And, it seems Buu-san got annoyed and scared a bunch of them away.”

 

“He's not mad, is he?” Pan asked, worriedly.

 

“No, no, of course not,” Videl reassured her. “This happens every time he's in the news for something. His staff knows how to handle it.” She paused. “I'm more concerned about how to keep them off of _our_ backs. You and Trunks certainly don't need the stress, and Gohan's university isn't going to want the media trying to interrupt classes there to talk to him.” 

 

“Sounds like a good time to take a break from the city,” Bulma remarked. “I'll have to slip back in to Capsule Corp to get some camping capsules, though. I only have one emergency kit with me.”

 

“Then let's get moving,” Vegeta said. “We've wasted enough time here.” He turned to head out the front door. 

 

Bulma shook Taphone's hand as the others followed after Vegeta. “Thank you so much for your hospitality,” she said. “This lot can be a bit rough sometimes.”

 

Taphone smiled. “Don't worry about it,” she said. “I'm no stranger to 'rough lots'.” She smiled at Pigero and winked.

 

Gohan took Pigero's hand in a firm grip. “I'll definitely be stopping by again to catch up,” he said. “I always kind of wondered what became of you, and here you are helping me out again.” 

 

“I look forward to it,” Pigero said. He and Taphone waved as the group took to the air, with Haiya Dragon trailing along behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCKING HELL KAMI-SAMA ON A CRACKER. D: A year and a half to get this chapter done and posted. DX Not even okay. 
> 
> That said, I haven't *completely* been spinning with my thumbs up my ass for the last year. XP IRL issues aside, I've also been working to migrate my accounts to this new name, and I'm slowly building a website to be better able to keep people up-to-date with what's going on with my fanworks. I'm starting to make better use of these Chapter Notes, but I'm also planning to make better use of my blog for that purpose: http://alexsummanus.blogspot.com/ 
> 
> Thanks to all of you who've stuck around! &lt;3


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